


The Good in Me

by TwistingMoonbeam



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Has Issues, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Mess, Character!Thomas - Freeform, Deceit Sanders-centric, Gen, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Platonic Relationships, Poor Thomas, Protective Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Protective Deceit Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-01-31 15:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21448312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistingMoonbeam/pseuds/TwistingMoonbeam
Summary: Post-Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts. When Virgil is ignoring Thomas's summoning after revealing his past, Thomas knows he can only find out the truth about Virgil and his background with the Dark Sides by talking to Deceit. But when Deceit will only tell him everything if he comes to the Dark Side without any of his Light Sides, Thomas discovers how far he will go to discover the truth and truly understand why Virgil is keeping secrets from him.A/N: Lots of examination of Thomas and both his relationship with Virgil and his relationship with the Dark Sides is in this story.Title of the story and chapter names are inspired by the song "The Good in Me" by Jon Bellion.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Deceit Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Thomas Sanders (Video Blogging RPF)/Everyone, all complicated friendships
Comments: 92
Kudos: 445





	1. One, Two, Three

**Chapter 1: One, Two, Three**

“Okay,” Thomas said aloud. “I’m gonna try one more time.”  


He wearily glanced at the camera rolling in front of him. He couldn’t exactly see his reflection, but he already knew his appearance: shaky hands, with his nails bitten down to the quick; messy hair, despite how many times he’d tried that morning to make it presentable; and circles under his eyes, dark enough to match a certain AWOL storm cloud.  


Looking into the camera lens, Thomas called out, “Uh, guys? Can I talk to you?” He hesitated. “_All_ of you?”  


One by one, his sides popped up at their typical corners of his living room. Patton entered in front of the blinds, worry written all over his face. Logan stood next to the staircase and near the kitchen table, a perturbed crease between his brows. And Roman arrived in front of the TV, but his normal heroic pose seemed forced this time.  


Thomas studied with hope at the staircase, but his favorite worrywart was nowhere to be seen.  


“UGH! He still won’t come out!” Thomas cried, his face in his hands.  


“I suppose fifth time…_isn’t_ the charm?” Patton offered with a wince.  


“Guys, what am I gonna do?” Thomas asked, gesturing at the empty staircase. “I can tell he’s upset. I can _feel it_, and it’s making _me_ upset! But he won’t come out and talk to me!”  


“And we’re sure he hasn’t gone like one of his favorite angry rock bands and become a Fallout Boy?” Roman proposed. “Could it be our boy has _fallen out_ again? A.K.A. ducked out?”  


“I’m afraid not,” Logan rejected, adjusting his glasses. “If Virgil had ducked out, Thomas would once again be an unproductive, bumbling buffoon, without a care or fear in the world.”  


“Thanks, _Logic_,” Thomas muttered.  


“It’s almost as if he has done the exact opposite,” Logan continued, as if he hadn’t heard Thomas. “It appears the heightened anxiety you are feeling right now, and that you have felt throughout the past twenty-four hours, is the result of being more connected to Virgil than ever. He’s certainly present, but he’s simply ignoring your summoning.”  


“But _why_?” Patton said, anguished. He gazed at Thomas with tears building in his eyes. “Did something happen yesterday between you two, kiddo?”  


Thomas stiffened, swiveling between his three sides nervously. He had been hoping Virgil would show up _eventually_, so that he wouldn’t have to talk about yesterday with the others alone. But he was going to tell them anyway…  


“Yes,” he said. “He, um, shared something with me. Something I…wasn’t expecting.”  


There was silence.  


“Ah,” Logan said. “He told you.”  


“We’re all talking about the same thing right now, right?”  


“The fact that Virgil used to be a Dark Side?” Roman clarified.  


Thomas’s jaw dropped. “Wait. You guys _knew_?”  


To their credit, his sides had the decency to show remorse. “Sorry, buddy,” Patton said, pouting. “It’s just…it was Virgil’s truth to tell. We were waiting for him to be ready.”  


“Which he _clearly_ wasn’t, considering his current state,” Roman added, arms crossed over his chest. He glared at the floor. “That snake and my brother’s not-so-subtle threats obviously rattled him.”  


“He had wanted to be the one to tell you, one day, when he was prepared,” Logan told Thomas. “The last thing Virgil wanted was Deceit or The Duke revealing it to you.”  


Thomas’s heart sank. “I mean, I had noticed Deceit and Remus taunting Virgil about _something_. I just…I had no idea it was _that_.”  


“Hence, why he revealed it to you yesterday after the debacle with The Duke,” Logan explained. “He must have known he had very little time left before some other unsavory character told you. But all of Virgil’s distress surely is not just from having to tell you.” Logan’s brows shot up. “How did you _react_ to the information, Thomas?”  


Suddenly, all eyes were on him. “Um,” he stammered. “I—uh—I guess I kind of…didn’t?”  


“You _didn’t_?” Roman echoed.  


“I—I don’t know, I panicked!” Thomas ran both hands through his hair, eyes wide. “I was so tired when he told me. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t do anything—oh, my gosh, my reaction was probably written all over my face!”  


“And how did you feel?” Logan asked. “_What_ do you think was, well, all over your face?”  


Thomas sighed, hand to his heart. The words stung on his tongue. “Shock, I’m sure. Hurt.” He grimaced. “Fear.”  


“Ah, there it is,” Logan exclaimed, pointed finger in the air. “And that is _precisely_ why Virgil is reacting the way he is. He is most likely convinced you are so frightened of him again that you won’t welcome him into the group. Knowing Virgil, this concern has probably been amplified to the point where he thinks you abhor him for his past.”  


“What?” Thomas shook his head. “I could never hate him! He’s helped me with so much. That’s what I want to tell him. It doesn’t matter who he used to be—I don’t care! I care about who he is _now_.”  


“Then we are left with the following options.” Logan counted each one off with a finger. “We could potentially wait for Virgil to emerge from his room, if that ever actually happens any time soon, or we could go to him.”  


“I’ve thought about that,” Thomas confessed, scratching the back of his head. “I just—I don’t want what happened last time to happen to you guys again, what with his room and everything. You guys getting…_corrupted_.” Thomas shuddered. “It wasn’t pretty.”  


“Speak for yourself,” Roman interrupted, indignant. “I’m always pretty.”  


“Then what do we do?” Patton hugged himself, seeming smaller and more insecure than ever. “We can’t just wait around for my dark, strange son forever. He needs us! He’s clearly in pain! He needs his happy pappy Patton!”  


Thomas could feel his heart thudding in his chest—fast, way too fast. His palms were slick with sweat, his throat closing slightly with every breath. He hated this feeling—there wasn’t anything to be anxious about, what was Virgil’s problem? Anger filtered its way through his exhausted mind, and without thinking about it, he murmured, “There’s more, isn’t there?”  


“What was that, Thomas?” Logan inquired.  


Thomas faced his sides, his mouth in a thin line. “There’s more I don’t know. Right? I can feel it. Whatever went down between Virgil and the…_others_…that’s what he doesn’t want me to know.” He paused. “That’s what’s upsetting him, isn’t it? He’s still keeping secrets from me.”  


Patton laughed nervously. “Well, Thomas, that’s kind of, er…a delicate situation.” He tapped his two index fingers together sheepishly, his eyes quickly darting to Logan on the other side of the room.  


“Yeah, I wouldn’t push that, Thomas,” Roman added. “Rapunzel’s hair isn’t long enough to help you get to the top of _that_ tower, if you know what I mean.”  


“But…I don’t,” Thomas exclaimed. “I don’t know what you mean. What do you mean?”  


“What Roman is _trying_ to say,” Logan cut in, voice firm, “is that the information you are contemplating attempting to discover is outside our realm of possibility to provide. Not to mention, it is information that is private to Virgil and vital to his purpose as an aspect to your personality. If Virgil wanted you to know, he would have told you by now.”  


“Like how he told me he used to be a Dark Side?” Thomas opposed. “Because he was _so_ thrilled to let me know about that important little detail.”  


“Exactly!” Patton said. “Listen, kiddo, Virgil may have his secrets, but for good reason. It’s for your own good. There are just some things…you may not be ready to know. That you don’t need to know!”  


“You said it yourself,” Roman elaborated. “Dark Side, Light Side, it doesn’t matter—who he is _now_ is what matters. Who he used to be doesn’t change anything.”  


“Then why are you guys acting like it _does_?” Thomas shouted. “You keep saying it doesn’t matter what else he’s hiding from me—but apparently it’s still too big for me to know? That I’m not _ready_ to know? Who the heck gets to make that decision?”  


No one answered, the air in the living room suddenly thick with tension. Thomas hadn’t even realized how worked up he was getting, and felt frustrated tears pool in his eyes. He wiped at them, saying quietly, “I’m—I’m sorry, guys. I don’t know what came over me just now…”  


Roman looked expectantly at Logan, who shrugged in response. Patton watched the other two sides, and an unspoken decision seemed to be made between the three of them.  


“Well, kiddo…” Patton sounded uncomfortable. “If you really wanna know…”  


“I do!” Thomas replied, arms stretched out before him. “Knowing whatever happened between Virgil and the Dark Sides would make things make sense to me. I would understand why Virgil is so upset. I would understand…why he’s been avoiding me.” His voice got small. “Why he doesn’t trust me with the truth.”  


Roman started, offended. “But that’s—that’s not why he hasn’t told you!” He sighed, gesturing with a wave of his wrist for Patton to begin speaking. “Well, you’ll know soon enough, I suppose.”  


Patton opened his mouth, but just as he was going to start talking, his hand suddenly clapped over his mouth, his eyes widening. He tried to mumble his way through his fingers, but Thomas couldn’t make out a word he said.  


“Ah, and there you go, Thomas. Just as I told you.” Logan sounded only a little smug. “It’s outside our jurisdiction to tell you.”  


Thomas blinked at Patton before groaning in aggravation. “Oh, come on! Seriously?”  


“Yeesh, you’d think he’d want to _scale it down_ a bit for once, am I right—” Roman’s hand then slapped over his mouth, and he loudly complained something that sounded like, “Oh come on, that was genius!”  


“Clearly, Thomas, what you want to know is something a _certain someone_ doesn’t think you’re ready for yet,” Logan instructed. “Remember, he is in control of what you know and what you don’t. He can spin the most comforting of lies, if it is necessary for your wellbeing, but he can also conceal the most dangerous of truths from you. You must be cautious when dealing with—” Logan’s own hand clamped over his mouth, and he rolled his eyes, exasperated.  


“That’s it.” Thomas took a deep breath. His gaze fell over his staircase one last time, his eyes narrowing upon truly realizing how uninhabited and cold it was.  


_He can conceal the most dangerous of truths from you._  


_It takes a liar to know a liar._  


_Because I was one of them._  


Thomas cleared his throat, his voice loud and clear.  


“Deceit!”


	2. I Know that He Loves You

**Chapter 2: I Know that He Loves You**

Nothing happened at first.

Thomas waited, his sides watching him with weariness. He wrung his hands, continuing, “Deceit, I…I know you’re listening. I know you can hear me. I know you’re _always_ listening. So, uh, if you’re there…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I want to talk to you.”

Another few seconds passed, and Thomas fought off the dread that ballooned in his chest. Was it possible _two_ of his sides were ignoring him now? But then the lights flickered, and he felt a familiar, eerie tickle on the back of his neck before a voice made his eyes shoot open.

“Thomas?”

Apparently, Thomas had caught his deceitful side off guard. Deceit was smoothing out his clothes, pulling up his gloves, and fixing his hat, as if he hadn’t been expecting to be seen today. His movements started off as frantic, but when he finally was content with how he looked, he relaxed and brought his hands together in front of his chest. He raised his head, the sheen from his green scales catching the light, and met Thomas’s apprehensive gaze with a sleek smirk. 

“Well. How very…_expected_ of you to actually summon _me_.”

“Hi to you, too, Deceit,” Thomas said flatly.

“And to what _don’t_ I owe this honor?” Deceit asked, eying his fingertips. “Because _surely_ you actually summoned with with a specific reason in mind. Unless this was a mistake? Did you mean to summon Roman’s oh-so _dashing_ twin? I heard about how much fun you all had together yesterday.”

Thomas flushed, but he knew he couldn’t let Deceit get to him. _This is MY head. I’m in control here._ “No, I meant to summon you. We have to talk.”

“Oh, do we?” Deceit noticed how the other three sides had their mouths covered and let out a giggle. “Pfft, oh, I see what’s going on here! You only want to talk to _me_ because it’s something the others aren’t allowed to discuss, is that it?”

“…Maybe,” Thomas admitted. “Speaking of which, can you, uh…?” He pointed to Logan, Roman, and Patton.

“Very well.” Deceit rolled his eyes, and with a flick of his wrist, Logan, Roman, and Patton could talk again. “What is it you so _desperately_ want to know?” he went on, seemingly bored. “That you’ve been trying to convince yourself you legitimately like vegetables for the past twenty years, even though we both know you only eat them because you’re insecure about your eating habits and think a stalk of broccoli a day will keep the doctor away?”

Thomas cringed, rubbing the back of his head. “Um, not exactly…” Though he was going to chalk that one up under _Things to Re-Think About My Life As a Functioning Adult_. “No, I wanted to ask you—since these guys apparently aren’t _allowed_ to tell me, which is still a little weird, by the way…I wanted to ask…”

“Out with it, Thomas,” Deceit snapped. “I don’t have time to wait around all day while you regain the gall you had two minutes ago when you called for me.”

“What happened between you and Virgil?” Thomas finally forced out in a rush.

Freezing, Deceit’s eyes bolted to meet Thomas’s. The scales that patterned down the left side of his face gleamed dangerously in the weak lighting of his living room. Deceit’s hands curled into fists, and when he responded, the barely-contained intensity could be heard in his voice. “I don’t know what you mean.”

_Ohhhhh, no. Maybe this was a bad idea._ “He was…one of you. Wasn’t he?”

Deceit’s glare sharpened, and he wielded it like a weapon toward the Light Sides. “How did he find this out?” he hissed. “You’re not supposed to be able to tell him these kinds of things!”

“And we’re still not,” Logan said simply. “Virgil told him.”

Deceit deflated, squinting at Logan as if he had just said something completely nonsensical. “So. He finally did it.” He straightened up, regaining his composure, and turned his attention back to Thomas. “And what exactly did he tell you?”

“That…just that…he thought he should have been better at protecting me from you because he _was_ one of you.”

“And where is he now?”

“In his room, we think. That’s really why I wanted to talk to you.” Thomas breathed in once, trying to stay calm. There was something about the expression on Deceit’s face that was scaring him. “He freaked out after he told me. I haven’t been able to summon him since yesterday. But I can just…_feel_ how distressed he is. I was hoping…if you could explain _why_ this is so upsetting for him, maybe I can understand what’s going on a bit better.”

Deceit coughed out a humorless laugh. “So you want the _whole_ truth. And nothing _but_ the truth. So help you God?”

“Yes,” Thomas said, squaring his shoulders. “And I know you’re the only one who can tell me.”

Deceit digested Thomas’s plea, looking him up and down. Thomas knew he was actually thinking about it—he could feel it in the back of his mind, like a brick jiggling free from a crumbling wall. He thought of Virgil, alone in his room, with only his spider curtains and _Nightmare Before Christmas_ posters keeping him company, while he regretted telling Thomas one secret and pledging he’d never tell him another one. Sitting in the dark, convinced Thomas hated him, when Thomas just wanted Virgil to let him in…

“Whatever the truth,” Thomas told Deceit, earnest, “I can handle it. I’m not going to…judge you or Virgil or anyone. I just want it all out in the open. I can’t stand all the snide comments and worried exchanged glances or…_surprises_ anymore.”

“Have you stopped to consider,” Deceit said quietly, “that perhaps it can be dangerous to know _too much_ about yourself? I know I’ve made efforts in the past to expose certain truths to you, Thomas, but only the ones you needed to know. The truths that will help you gain what you desire out there in the world. But my and Virgil’s history…his past with us…it’s personal.”

“Whatever it is, I want to know,” Thomas answered. He brought a hand to his heart, using the thumping he felt under his fingertips to ground him. “I’m _ready_ to know.”

Deceit wasn’t happy, but he finally said, “Very well. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. No more secrets. But…” He forced a wicked smile, showing a sliver of his white teeth. “We do this _my_ way, and we play by _my_ rules. You want the truth? You have to come with me to the Dark Side of your mind. And you have to come alone.”

“WHAT!” Patton and Roman yelled at the same time.

Roman scowled and drew his sword, leveling it at Deceit. “Listen here, snakeface! Thomas doesn’t go anywhere without us!”

“Especially not to…the _Dark Side_.” Patton uttered the term like it was a cuss. “He won’t be safe there!”

“And if you think we’re going to let you _slither in here_,” Roman threatened, “and whisk Thomas away on some demented journey of self-discovery with us not there to protect him, then _you’ve_ got another thing—”

“Thomas can go,” Logan interrupted.

Patton and Roman’s gazes swung to Logan, shocked. Thomas was shocked, too—even Deceit seemed surprised he was getting his way.

“But—but Logan—” Patton begged.

“Our boy is not _safe_ alone with this reptilian rapscallion!” Roman cried.

Logan exchanged a long look with Deceit before replying, “Deceit is a part of Thomas. He would never hurt him, or allow any_thing_ or any_one_ to put him in harm’s way. If those are his conditions in order for Thomas to gain the truth, then I say we let him go.”

Roman and Patton slumped, Patton whining, “Okaaaaay,” and Roman muttering, “Fine.”

Logan nodded at Thomas, and somehow, it comforted Thomas, like a hug. “Remain vigilant, Thomas, and remain open-minded. I hope you find the answers you’re looking for. And once you return, we’ll surely have to add those answers to your never ending assembly line of predicaments, but…” He smiled. “At least we will be here to help you do so when you are ready.”

Thomas grinned. “Thank you, Logan. You’re still really cool.” As the tips of Logan’s ears went pink, he told Roman and Patton, “I’ll be okay, guys. What’s a little walk on the Dark Side?”

“Be careful, okay, kiddo?” Patton said. It was clear he was already worried sick. “Don’t talk to any strangers. Stay with Deceit the whole time! Don’t wander off or get distracted by any lost animals you may want to bring home!”

“And Deceit, so help me,” Roman proclaimed, “if he comes home with one hair out of place, you’ll have to answer to my sword!”

Annoyed, Deceit promised everything would be fine.

Thomas walked forward to pick up his camera from its tripod, holding it with wobbly hands. “Okay. I’m ready,” Thomas said, feeling every emotion possible except ready.

Deceit probably knew he was lying to himself, because a sly smirk was pulling at the corner of his lips. “Then take us there. It’s your mind, remember? Just think of the things about yourself that you wish you could change. The things about yourself of which you’re not a fan. _That_ is how we get to my home.”

Thomas felt a twinge of guilt—_is that really how I view some of these guys?_—but he stopped to think about the aspects of his personality that he already knew he didn’t like. His compulsions for selfishness, the twisted thoughts that seeped into his brain at night or randomly during the day. His tendency to assume the best in people, even when they were just taking advantage of him. His laziness, his nativity, his inability to have _one_ normal conversation with the cute barista at Starbucks, holy crap, _stop wishing for him to enjoy his drink, too, that’s the third time this week, Thomas—_

His fears. His cowardice.

The fact that, despite everything that had happened, he _still_ wanted to go to that freaking callback over the wedding.

His lack of trust in Virgil, even after everything they’d been through together.

That maybe, no matter what he did, he was always going to be a bad person.

He felt himself begin to sink down.

“And away,” Deceit whispered in his ear, “we go.”


	3. All My Morals Crumble

**Chapter 3: All My Morals Crumble**

“We’re here.”

Thomas slowly opened his eyes, his pulse instantly picking up speed. He was standing before a house that was creepily similar to his own from the real world, but it was _different_. The atmosphere of this part of his mind was gloomy and foreboding like a horror movie. The sky was gray and crackling with streaks of lightning that were unseen within the dark, ferocious clouds that hovered above him.

This ramshackle version of his house sent shivers of unease down Thomas’s spine: it was run-down and shoddy, practically seething at him as he assessed its poor appearance. The roof had shingles missing, the gutter hanging off the edge and sending dirty water into the dead flower bed that decorated his (normally tidy) front lawn. Most of the windows were cracked, the curtains shredded and waving at him in the stormy wind. As Deceit started forward, stepping over any spots of crumbling concrete that made up his front walkway, Thomas was struck with how _normal_ this seemed to his deceitful side. 

“Welcome,” Deceit crooned with a grand, introductory gesture and a bow, “to the Dark Side of your mind, Thomas.”

“Wha—” Thomas sidestepped a segment of the front porch that fell apart, fragments of pavement scattering across the overgrown, dead grass. “Why is it…_like this_ here?” he demanded, fear creeping up his throat.

Deceit shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Each area of your mind flourishes in tandem with how much you utilize the abilities of the sides that live there. We haven’t exactly been getting along with you and the Light Sides, so this is the state of our home.”

“_What_?” Thomas faced him, stricken with guilt. “And…it’s always been this way?” _Since I’ve never listened to any of you?_

“Always,” Deceit confirmed, indifferent. “But our rooms are untouched by the neglectful nature of your moral compass. _Thankfully_,” he added, irritated.

Thomas winced. “Oh, man, Deceit, look, I’m sorry—”

“Save it,” Deceit cut him off. “We’ll speak more on the matter when we get to my room.”

He twisted the wooden doorknob of the front door, and let it swing open to give them access to the house.

The interior wasn’t much better than the exterior. Wallpaper peeled everywhere he looked, curling like tongues down the walls. Every step on the floorboards brought about a creak that made Thomas fear he was going to fall through. The main hallway was dimly lit by a single, dangling oil lamp, its luminance barely brushing the corners of the room. Shadows seem to follow Thomas as he walked in and around, forcing him to fold up the collar of his jacket and stuff one hand into his pocket, the other quivering while he held up his camera to document his quest. When he was in the center of the hallway, he heard the front door slam shut behind them, and he jumped.

_This isn’t a home_, he thought, teeth chattering. _This is a haunted house._

“Thomas, do try to remember that, as a side of your personality, I _do_ have access to any and all truths you admit to yourself willingly,” Deceit chided. “Even the ones you think in the moment.”

Thomas gawped at him. “You can _hear my thoughts_?”

“Don’t be silly. I can merely sense how you are perceiving the various events that happen to you. If you are acknowledging something as a truth, it lingers in your consciousness. If you are lying to yourself on how you truly feel about something, I lock it away until you are ready. So, that _haunted house_ comment?” he finished, amused. “_Rude_.”

Cheeks bright red, all Thomas could manage was an embarrassed, “Note taken.”

Deceit led him up a set of stairs to the top floor—not unlike his own stairs back home, except for the rickety way the stairs swayed under his feet, and the odd red stains that dotted the dusty carpeting (_It’s not what I think it is, it’s not what I think it is_, Thomas tried to tell himself, but hearing Deceit’s snicker ahead of him made him realize it was most likely _exactly_ what he thought it was).

“Do you all live here together?” Thomas asked, hoping to distract himself from the horrors of the house with some new, useful information.

“Yes,” Deceit said as they reached the top floor (which Thomas was unsurprised to find was just as unkempt and spooky as the rest of the house). “Everyone has their own room, of course, but we all share the building.”

“And…how _many_ of you live here?”

Deceit shot him an exasperated look. “Seriously, Thomas? I’m barely considering trusting you with the complicated history of sides you _already know_. You think you’re ready to know about sides I haven’t even allowed you to meet yet?”

Thomas flinched, then heaved a sigh as he rubbed his temples. “No. You’re right, I’m not ready for that. I’m probably not even ready for _this_.”

Deceit drank in Thomas’s demeanor, and Thomas wondered if the deceitful side had just realized how tired and weak Thomas was after everything that had happened in the past day. His gaze held fast as he noticed the circles under Thomas’s eyes, and the way they had darkened upon Thomas’s entrance to the house. He guessed they reminded Deceit of the very side they were there to discuss.

_Can Virge feel how freaked out I am to be here?_ Thomas mused. _Is he keeping tabs on what I’m up to, or has he completely shut me out?_

He hoped Virgil felt how hard Thomas was trying to reach him. That what mattered to Thomas was Virgil trusting him with his secrets, not the actual secrets themselves. 

“You may surprise yourself,” Deceit told him, seizing him from his inner spiral. Deceit hesitated before turning away to resume guiding Thomas, but not before Thomas heard him murmur, “You certainly continue to surprise me.”

They passed a line of doors, most of which were unmarked and blank. But just as Thomas was reading the sign on one of the few labeled ones, his blood ran cold, and the door swung open with a bang.

_“Ohhhhhh, Tommy!”_

“Oh, _no_,” Thomas moaned. 

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Virgil cocked his head to the side and pulled off one headphone, listening.

He was bundled up in bed, _My Chemical Romance_ on full blast. He hadn’t even changed out of his pajamas from the night before. His purple stitch print socks poked out from the other end of his blanket as he played his favorite music and shut the Thomasphere out. 

Well, that was kind of a lie: he was still _there_, maintaining a distant link to Thomas, but…he couldn’t face Thomas yet. Not after yesterday.

Not after how Thomas had reacted.

Try as he might, no amount of edgy rock music was erasing Thomas’s face from his mind. He could layer on blanket after blanket, but he couldn’t escape that expression of shock, that expression of pain, ugh, and how _scared_ he had looked…

Virgil breathed in once, twice. He just needed time. Time for the fire he’d set to eventually sizzle out, so the ashes could be swept under the rug and forgotten like a bad dream. Then, and only then, would he be able to see Thomas again.

Oh, who was he kidding? Thomas probably hated him. Who did Virgil think he was, keeping so many secrets from Thomas, like some conniving little rat? Thomas probably didn’t want to see him. Thomas was probably making plans now with Logan, Roman, and Patton on how he could live the rest of his life without ever having to talk to his anxiety ever again. 

Still though…angst aside, Virgil couldn’t duck out. If the last time had really been as dangerous as the sides had told him, he would be risking Thomas’s safety if he just dropped everything and left again. So, this would have to be his life now: monitoring Thomas from the cover of his bed, ever vigilant for potential harm.

Watching from afar as Thomas made more videos, attended more conventions, got involved in more projects. 

Beholding from a safe distance as Thomas dated, married the love of his life, started a family, grew old.

No more staying up late with Thomas to watch conspiracy theory videos on YouTube or any of Thomas’s favorite animated shows. No more movie nights where Virgil insisted on scary movies in a joking attempt to scare Thomas, only to accidentally end up scaring both of them to the point where they were both too spooked for bed, which, naturally, only led to bloopers from _The Office_. No more solemn moments between the two of them of coaching Thomas through his breathing exercises when he got overwhelmed by the many, many things in the world that terrified Virgil. 

Never getting to bask in the warm, welcoming glow of Thomas’s light ever again. 

Virgil hissed lowly, although it mostly just came out as an annoyed huff. So help him, if he ever saw Deceit again, he was going to make Roman the nicest pair of snakeskin boots he could ever imagine.

He listened again, frowning, his heart beginning to beat just a tiny bit faster. He could sense that Thomas, somewhere, for some reason, was nervous. _Really_ nervous. Doing something that was making him nervous. Maybe he should go check on him, just a teeny peek to make sure he wasn’t doing something stupid—

_“Because I was one of them.”_

__

__

_Thomas, taking a step back, suddenly wary of Virgil. His mouth drooping, and pain and confusion blooming like a bruise. Fear, completely taking over Thomas’s kind face as it drained of color—_

“Or not,” Virgil muttered weakly, bringing his hood up and raising the volume on his music.

Thomas was probably just making a phone call, or performing some other mundane activity that Virgil, for some reason, found so frightening. Thomas, he was sure, was fine.

Thomas wouldn’t want a Dark Side’s help, anyway. 


	4. Your Heart’s a Vine that I’ve Bled Trying to Climb

**Chapter 4: Your Heart’s a Vine that I’ve Bled Trying to Climb**

_Two Dark Sides._

_In one day._

_For the love of Oscar Isaac, what is my life?!_

“Hiya, Tim-Tom!” Remus leapt from his room and landed in front of them, his two purple-rimmed eyes crazed and the single eye at the top of his sash seemingly following Thomas as he floundered back. He was still in his usual twisted green Shakespearean costume, the glitter twinkling in the murky light of the Dark Sides’ house. He clutched his Morningstar with one hand, excitedly swinging it as if he was going to throw it, while the other hand smoothed out his white-capped hair and thin mustache. “What brings you to the Dark Side? Are you _at last_ sick of those goody-goody Light Sides and ready for the juicy stuff? Also, have you ever considered finger-painting with _someone else’s dismembered fingers_?”

“Eugh, Remus!” Thomas shuddered, the image pasted to the inside of his eyelids. “It’s, uh, good to see you, too, buddy.”

Remus lit up, and the grin he sent Deceit’s way, while still deranged, shone with glee. “Did you hear that, Snake Eyes? He’s happy to see me!”

“Let’s not get crazy here, Remus,” Deceit said, humor in his voice. “Even though, realistically, _everything_ involving you is crazy.” 

“Oh, don’t make me blush in front of Thomas, Deceit,” Remus laughed. “Though, I wouldn’t mind all that blood rushing _somewhere else_, if you know what I mean!”

There was a boom from inside Remus’s room, and smoke filtered out from underneath his closed door. It was followed by a feral roar, and something banged against the walls in Remus’s room, shaking the whole house.

“Remus,” Deceit said as the roaring quieted down. One brow was raised, his arms crossed over his chest. “How many times do I have to tell you? _No pets_.”

“Aw, but Ursula won’t be like the other ones! She’s good! Very well-behaved. And house-broken!” He thought for a moment. “Well, mostly.”

Deceit massaged his temples, as if feeling a headache coming on. “We’ll talk about that later. Anyway, to answer your question, Thomas is here visiting to…talk.”

“To talk?” Remus echoed, interested. “About what? Sticking your hand into the garbage disposal, I hope.”

“Not so much.” Deceit pursed his lips. “We’re going to discuss, er…Virgil.”

“Oh!” Remus smirked. “About time, Thomas. How many hints does a guy have to drop to clue you into Finding Emo’s little game? I know you’re out of the closet and all, but you should sneak back in there and check out Virgil’s _skeletons_! Pretty dastardly, if you ask me, and all I am is bastardly!”

Thomas bit his lip, doing his best to shove down the alarm that was growing in him. He didn’t think he could stand not knowing what anyone was talking about anymore when it came to Virgil’s past. It couldn’t seriously be that bad. His sides were being dramatic (they were parts of _him_, after all). Deceit and Remus were just trying to freak him out.

Weren’t they?

“So, if you need us,” Deceit was explaining when Thomas tuned back in, “we’ll be in my room.”

“Aww, but I wanted to play with Tommy for a bit!” Remus wrapped an arm around Thomas’s shoulders, a demented smile overtaking his face. “If he won’t utilize my ideas in his content, then he can at least mess around me in my room! C’mon, Thomas, what do you say? Let’s throw some stuff at the wall and see what sticks!”

Thomas turned his head to address Remus, only to yelp upon seeing that the “arm” that was around his shoulders was actually an octopus’s tentacle. He stumbled away, Remus guffawing all the while.

Deceit, the slimy boy, looked like he was enjoying Thomas’s discomfort, and actually considering leaving Thomas with Remus to “mess around.” But then, to Thomas’s relief, he sighed and lamented, “As tempted as I am to allow that, Remus, unfortunately, I made a promise to the Light Sides that I would return Thomas to them unharmed. I doubt I can keep that promise if I leave Thomas with you to…collaborate.”

Remus groaned, the tentacle becoming an arm again. “_Fiiiiiine_. There’s never any time for fun, Thomas! You’re always so busy ‘self-reflecting’ and ‘finding yourself.’” He pouted, kicking at the ground like a child. “You never want to hang out with me,” he mumbled.

Thomas frowned, guilt taking root within him. Yesterday, he’d been so afraid of Remus and the intrusive thoughts he’d sent ricocheting through Thomas’s brain, so concerned with what they meant about him and his sanity. But now, knowing that Remus had probably spent Thomas’s entire life alone in his chaotic room, in the crumbling ruins of the Dark Side, waiting for Thomas to call upon him for creative help like he would for Roman, but never hearing a peep, made Thomas feel horrible. 

“Uh, sorry, Remus. I’m kind of a man on a mission today.” Thomas smiled tentatively, scratching the back of his head. “Rain check, maybe?”

Remus blinked, then beamed deviously. “I’ll hold you to that, Tommy! Now, you two scurry off for story time.” A writhing purple tentacle slipped out from under his door and swiped at them before Remus hit it with his Morningstar and sent it slithering back into his room. “Sorry, methinks Ursula is getting hungry. Have fun, Thomas! Fingers crossed Deceit here isn’t _too_ cold-blooded with what he tells you. _Byeeeeee_!”

With a wave, Remus opened his door and kicked back at the tentacles that reached out at him, yelling, “Calm down, snookums, Daddy’s back! How does large intestine sound for lunch today?” before slamming the door shut.

Thomas stared, asking after a moment, “You weren’t actually thinking about leaving me alone with him, right?”

“Of _course_ not, Thomas,” Deceit replied, brandishing the sickly-sweet, condescending tone that Thomas hated. “I would never do such a thing.”

“I don’t believe you for a second.”

“So suspicious. Well, let’s move along. My room is the last one at the end of the hall.”

Deceit began to lead Thomas further through the hallway. The shadows clung a little closer to the walls as they descended, only a few doors between Deceit and Remus’s rooms. Thomas scrutinized the door next to Deceit’s when he recognized the familiar band posters and black decorations plastered all over it, and he swallowed thickly.

_Virgil’s Room, Stay Out!!!_ read the sign on the door.

“Virgil’s room,” Deceit confirmed quietly as he took a ring of keys out of his pocket. “Well, his old one. He has a new room on the Light Side. He forgot some of his items when he…moved out.”

Thomas nodded, remaining silent. 

Deceit inserted a gold key into the keyhole of the last door in the hallway. Thomas couldn’t help but notice that _DECEIT_ was marked with plain, capitol letters across the top of the door, rather than an actual name. _Guess I’m not finding that one out anytime soon._

“Before we go in,” Deceit said, suddenly very stern, “I should warn you: similar to Virgil’s and Patton’s, my room has its own unique effect. Once you’re in here, you’re not permitted to lie. This is the part of your mind where you store all of your most selfish, hidden, ugly truths and desires. Are you prepared for that kind of environment?”

Not permitted to lie? Thomas supposed that made sense, considering Deceit’s entire purpose was to keep Thomas in the dark about the worst parts of himself. So this was the corner of his brain where all of his perceived truths and honest thoughts were tucked away. _This can’t end well_, Thomas thought, weary.

“As prepared as I’ll ever be,” he said.

Unconvinced, Deceit twisted the large gold key, and then opened the door.


	5. You’re Making a Ruin of Me

**Chapter 5: You’re Making a Ruin of Me**

As he crossed the threshold into Deceit’s room, Thomas was struck with feelings of…ease? 

Confused, he gawked at a room that mirrored his living room, but was lined in gold and covered in images of his favorite things. Posters of his favorite male celebrities were all over the walls and ceilings, all dressed in…_risqué_ clothing, which made Thomas tug at his shirt collar (_did it just get hot in here?_). On shelves and tables were framed pictures of Thomas on Broadway, Thomas winning a Tony, Thomas buying a mansion by the sea and driving a Lamborghini. YouTube Play Buttons took up a whole bookshelf, chronicling Thomas’s channel’s steady rise in subscribers and success. A laptop on a corner desk dinged every couple minutes, and the screen showed it was his email blowing up with messages from some of the most famous and well-known creators contacting him for collabs. Thomas blanched upon seeing a photo hung on the wall of him and his ex back together, a ring on his ex’s finger.

“Welcome,” Deceit proclaimed, gesturing wide with a smirk, “to my room, Thomas.”

“Wow,” was all Thomas could manage.

Deceit, pleased, snapped his fingers, and a gold tripod popped up for Thomas’s camera. Next, two opulent, gold thrones manifested in front of the TV, complete with velvet seat cushions and Thomas’s “TS” emblem embedded on circles at the top. “Take a seat.”

Once the camera was all set up, Thomas sat, sinking into the cushion of the throne with a sigh. His exhaustion was finally catching up to him; he guessed two days straight of no sleep, stress, and existential thinking would lead to that, eventually. Deceit took a seat in the throne next to him, smiling like Thomas was the most treasured thing to him in this lavish room of riches. “Comfy?”

“Yeah,” Thomas replied with a laugh. He glanced around this million-dollar replica of his living room, any feelings of nervousness he’d originally been experiencing thawing into joy. Why would he be nervous? This was his mind! Deceit’s room! The slice of his unconscious that housed all of the good, amazing things he wanted out of his life—that were possible to attain in his life. What could be so bad about that?

“Care for a drink? Some wine, a mimosa perhaps?”

“Oh my gosh, a mimosa would be _incredible_.”

Deceit clapped, and what materialized in front of them all of the sudden gave Thomas a reality check.

When Thomas was in high school, he had been relentlessly bullied by one particular upper classman. This jerk had called him names, left mean notes on his locker, and had threatened to beat him up at one point. To that day, Thomas _really_ didn’t like him, and still had nightmares about how miserable the guy had made him for months before Thomas had worked up the courage to report him and get him expelled. So imagine Thomas’s horror when that very same bully appeared in front of him, dressed in rags as he popped a bottle of champagne.

“Deceit!” Thomas screeched. “What—what _is_ this?”

“Like the surprise?” Deceit grinned as the bully poured the champagne into two delicate gold flutes. “In my room, you can conjure whoever you want to do whatever you want. Anyone you want revenge on, anyone you feel ill will towards—_this_ is the place to settle a score.”

The bully handed Deceit a mimosa first. Thomas saw emptiness in the bully’s expression when he handed Thomas his drink, as if he was in a trance. Thomas hadn’t seen or heard anything about this guy in at least thirteen years, and now he was serving Thomas cocktails in his mind. What in the _world_?

“You can go now,” Deceit told the bully, terse. His fingers drummed on the armrest of his throne. The bully turned to leave, but then Deceit’s fingers went from drumming to snapping, and the ground beneath the bully opened up to a tank of water. As the bully fell, shark fins emerged from the surface of the water, and the ground closed shut.

“Deceit!” Thomas shrieked. “What did you do?”

“Oh, relax, Thomas, he’s not real,” Deceit scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t let Morality get to you, this room is _sacred_. You don’t need to be ashamed of what you really want and feel. These are experiences you’ve been repressing for _years_.” He motioned grandly to the room as it glinted and sparkled like a freshly shined gem. “Revel in it. _Enjoy_ it. You can’t do this anywhere else.”

Thomas tried to get cozy on the throne, but the anxiety was bubbling up again. Evaluating each picture in the room revealed to him that they were all of him or some potential love interest—where were his family and friends? We he truly so selfish that he didn’t envision anything with his parents or brothers? No future with Joan, Talyn, Adri, Quil, Leo, Terrence, Camden, Dominic, or any of his other pals in his ideal little world? None of his other sides were mentioned there, either. (Sure, they were imaginary, but he could count them as friends, right? Self-love, and all that.)

He noticed flickers of light below him. The surface of the entire floor in Deceit’s room was composed of a mirror, and Thomas did a double take at his reflection. Staring back at him was a Thomas that was…_beautiful_. His skin was clear, the dark circles under his eyes polished away and his perfect, white teeth glittering. He was dressed in an expensive black suit, his cuff links tiny stars that shone like his matching shoes and tie. He was skinnier, more buff, and more handsome than he could have ever dreamed, practically glowing with brilliance and charm. 

“I’m assuming you like what you see.”

Thomas looked at Deceit, head spinning. “Um…_yeah_. I’m _hot_. I mean…” He caught himself, remembering his positive mantras. “Hot_ter_.”

Deceit sipped his mimosa, chuckling. From where Thomas was seated, he could only see Deceit’s snake half, the green standing out against the gold around them. Seeing the scales refreshed Thomas’s memory, and he straightened up, his heart kicking into high gear. “Sorry, I got distracted by all of…_this_. Um, you were going to tell me about Virgil?”

“Hmm? Ah, oh, yes, of course.” Deceit placed his flute of mimosa on a side table he had just conjured and crossed his legs. His face was pinched, hands folded neatly in his lap as he chose his words. “Where to begin…well, naturally, there is _one_ tiny detail I should mention, to preface this whole story.” He met Thomas’s eyes, unwavering. “I know you don’t fully trust me yet, Thomas—it doesn’t take your dishonest side to tell you still have reservations about me and my intent. But, I will reiterate: in this room, you see and hear what you desire most. And I can sense how desperate you are to know about Virgil—and to learn how to help him.”

Thomas nodded eagerly, disregarding his amazing reflection in the floor and concentrating on what was happening right now. “I just…I just feel so _lost_. And I know it’s half because that’s how _he’s_ feeling right now, but it’s also how _I’m_ feeling, as _me_. If I just knew where he was coming from with all of this, where you’re all coming from…it would help. _I_ want to help. I don’t want him to feel alone. I need to know.”

“Very well.” Deceit seemed to make a decision, a shadow crossing his face. “Then you’ll know.”

He flicked his wrist, and the metallic, reflective material of the mirror rose from the floor and formed a humanoid figure. It morphed and changed, growing a black hoodie, an angsty hairstyle, and a familiar, angry face.

“Virgil?” Thomas cried out in surprise.

“Let’s start from the beginning.” Deceit’s voice was clipped. “The side you know as Virgil was a part of my family—the ‘Dark Sides,’ as Roman likes to call us—for a majority of your life. Yes, he is your anxiety, your survival instincts, your fight or flight. But when he was with us, he went by a very different name: Paranoia.” 

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Virgil grimaced, gripping his iPod so tight, sweaty fingerprints were left behind on the pause button.

What the frick was Thomas _doing_? His heart had just somersaulted into his throat, and he had been shaky and agitated for the past few hours. Whatever he was doing was practically giving him (and therefore Virgil) palpitations. 

Okay, now Virgil was seriously having his doubts that Thomas was up to anything mundane. Instinct screamed for him eavesdrop, but he could already see how this would play out: he’d show up, guns blazing, only to find Thomas accidentally taking too long at the cash register when putting his money away and holding up the line. Thomas would be terrified to discover his presence, and would be torn between heading for the hills or shooing him back into his head.

Virgil burrowed deeper into his bed, clutching his purple comforter with an iron fist as he flung it over his head. Darkness greeted him as he blinked a few times, trying to control his breathing. 

_Thomas is fine._

_He doesn’t want to see you. He doesn’t trust you anymore._

_Thomas is fine._

_In for four, hold for seven, out for eight._

_Thomas is fine._


	6. Try to Survive, Keep My Spirit Alive

**Chapter 6: Try to Survive, Keep My Spirit Alive**

Thomas was _not_ fine.

“P-Paranoia?” 

This fake Virgil Deceit had created leered at him, making him shrink in his seat. He remembered when Virgil had acted that way: mean, aggressive, scaring and disheartening Thomas from doing everything from singing live on stage while on tour to making a doctor’s appointment. 

_But he’s changed,_ a part of him argued. _That’s not him anymore. He works with you now, and you work with him._

_That was before yesterday, though._

“That was Virgil’s primary purpose,” Deceit explained coolly, “when he was with us.” He clapped, and two more figures rose from the floor, transforming into Deceit and Remus. “He encompassed all of your fears and distrust of the world, as well as your false assumptions about people’s perceptions of you and your behavior. This is, of course, the Virgil you met at the start of your video series.”

“Wait.” Thomas’s jaw dropped. “So, when I met Virgil…when he first appeared in my videos…he was still a Dark Si—one of you?”

“That’s correct.” Deceit hummed with mirth, his tone becoming fond as he made the fake Virgil stick his hands into his hoodie pockets and sneer. “It was my idea. My _master plan_, if you will. We wanted to have a more active role in your daily choices and ethical dilemmas, but we knew the Light Sides wouldn’t allow all of us to bombard you. So, we sent a representative to test the waters and see how willing you would be to listen to one of us.”

“So…" Pinpricks of black fuzzed around the edges of Thomas’s vision as the impact of the information smacked him. "A spy,” he finished dully.

“Call it what you like, but don’t deny that it worked. It was a slow process, but as time went on, he infiltrated your little group. Got a ‘seat at the table,’ as you’ve described it before.”

The figures in front of him laughed. _“I swear, I couldn’t make this stuff up,”_ Virgil told them. _“Thomas was seriously trying to convince us he could keep up any of his New Year’s resolutions. As if he’s not going to give them up by next week! Kid’s delusional.”_

The fake Deceit snorted. _“I’m sure the Light Sides weren’t any help, as usual?”_

_“Of course not,”_ fake Virgil goaded. _“As usual, they just broke out into song and it magically solved all of his problems. All that Kumbaya stupidity makes me want to tear my ears off.”_

Fake Remus brought his hands to his own ears and ripped them off his head, holding them out to Virgil. _“Like this?”_

Virgil laughed again. _“Yup, just like that.”_

Thomas made a face, disbelief seeping into his bones. This couldn’t be possible. The Virgil he knew would _never_ do something so underhanded. He’d always made it clear to Thomas: even though his methods were…unorthodox, to say the least, he showed up to every video with the goal to help.

But then again…who _was_ the Virgil he knew? Two days ago, he would have said Virgil was his fight or flight reflex, the side of him that steered him away from danger and gave him the kick in the pants he needed every once in a while to get his work done. But after yesterday…could it be everything he knew about Virgil was a lie? A lie _Deceit_ had constructed?

“Oh, don’t make that face,” Deceit said. He whirled his hand, conjuring a nail file and working on his nails (despite the fact that his yellow gloves were still on). “If it makes you feel better, he only did it because he wanted to meet you. It’s because of me you two can even interact at all.”

The scene in front of them shifted, and now fake Deceit was asking fake Virgil a question. Deceit had just entered the room, and Virgil was curled up on the couch. _“How are things going with Thomas?”_

Fake Virgil groaned, shaking his head. _“He won’t listen to anything I say. Whenever I try to contribute something useful, like hiding in bed after he bombed that audition, the Light Sides completely steamroll me. I don’t know how else to get him to hear me out.”_

Fake Deceit shrugged, waltzing over to stand before Virgil. _“There is one way. After all, it’s a waste to never use an ability that you have.”_

Virgil cringed. _“But…I don’t like forcing Thomas into things. Unless his life depended on it, wouldn’t it be kind of wrong to make him do something he didn’t want to?”_

Deceit went still, a frown contorting his face. _“I don’t know,”_ he said. _“Since when do you care about something being ‘wrong’?”_

_“I—I don’t,”_ Virgil stuttered. _“I just…I don’t like manipulating him like that.”_

_“The whole point of you undergoing this charade is to manipulate him.”_ Deceit sounded vexed. _“Don’t lose focus, Paranoia. We have a clear end goal here. Get him to listen to you.”_

_“So that he’s indirectly listening to you?”_ Virgil countered. 

Deceit left in a huff before the scene dissipated. 

The truth began to dawn on Thomas. “So, this has all been one enormous attempt to control me,” he spat. “Virgil becoming a part of the videos? Virgil even becoming a part of my life? It was all just to manipulate my decisions?”

“At first,” Deceit clarified. The figures before them shifted to form Virgil, Logan, Patton, Roman, and even Thomas himself. “But we underestimated how powerful the others were. Try as he did, Virgil just couldn’t break through to you. Your refusal to hear him sent him back to us without his mission accomplished, video after video.”

“Yeesh, well, sorry,” Thomas snapped. “When I first met him, Virgil’s solution for every one of my problems was to go hide in bed and wallow in self-loathing. Can’t say I was a huge fan of that idea.”

“_But_ here is the irony, Thomas.” Deceit swirled the liquid in his glass, not looking at him. “Even though he couldn’t get through to you and your Light Sides, you all gradually began to make an impression. He would return from videos, and he had less anger, less fear. He was opening up to you, one friendship speech after another.” His fingers flexed over the armrest, and he clicked his tongue. “It was disgusting.”

“Wha—how can you say that?” 

“Because, Thomas, a less-vigilant Virgil could mean the end for you! His job _is_ to be angry, _is_ to be fearful and unnerving. How were you ever going to know if a mugger was following you late at night if your paranoia was off knitting with Morality instead of keeping guard?”

“Being less aggressive and angry doesn’t mean he can’t do his job well. It just means we’re working together, instead of him being this overpowering force that I actively try to avoid.”

“Nevertheless. We were noticing the change in him. He was countering our plans with points made by the Light Sides, enforcing things like _morals_ and _values_. Asking questions like, ‘What was the _right_ thing to do?’ instead of ‘What was the _best_ thing to do?’ He was suddenly so concerned with if you were _good_, instead of being concerned with if you were _well_.” 

Thomas took a shuddering breath. Virgil’s behavior during the last two videos came to mind: offended that Thomas was mulling over lying to Lee and Mary Lee to get out of the wedding; finding him guilty and fully prepared to “convict” Thomas of his crimes as the only member of the jury; keeping Thomas up all night when Remus made his debut because he was so terrified of Thomas’s nightmares; losing faith in Thomas at the drop of a hat and saying there was something wrong with him…

_Oh no…_is _Thomas a bad person?_

_Why do you keep asking that?_

_We still haven’t gotten an answer!_

“I confronted him, eventually,” Deceit went on. “I accused him of going soft. Of losing sight of his true purpose after spending too much time with the Light Sides. Of trying to _be_ a Light Side.”

The figures turned back into just Virgil and Deceit. Thomas expected them to stay silent, but they actually started arguing.

_“Dee, don’t be ridiculous,”_ Virgil said, rolling his eyes. _“I know I’m not one of them. It’s all just an act to keep Thomas on track.”_

_“I know you’re lying, Paranoia.”_ Deceit was throwing a fit. _“Did you forget who you’re talking to? I know you think you’re a member of their little club, but maybe you need a reminder: you’ll _never_ be accepted by them. Especially not by Thomas.”_

Virgil scowled, knowing he’d been found out, and angled his body away from him. _“You don’t know that. You don’t know them.”_

_“And you think you do?”_ Deceit crowed. _“That’s a laugh and a half. I think your real problem is that _they_ don’t know _you_. I wonder how Logic, Morality, and Creativity would react to discovering their new friend ‘Anxiety’ had only started showing up to meetings because I was sending him to collect intel. I wonder how Thomas would react.”_

Virgil’s eyes flashed. _“You wouldn’t. You _can’t. _Thomas doesn’t know about you yet.”_

_“He’s an open-minded young man. Perhaps I should finally…pay him a visit.”_

_“Deceit.”_ Virgil’s Tempest Tongue bled its way into the warning. _“Stay away from him and the Light Sides.”_

_“Or what? What will you do, scare me away? I already know all of Thomas’s fears because I know _you._”_ Deceit’s voice softened, nearly pleading. _“You have to think of Thomas. You’re of no help to him as a Light Side. You have to keep your guard up! He has to remain fearful of everything that surrounds him. If he becomes too trusting, too assuming, too selfless…he could be taken advantage of. He could get hurt. He has to remain afraid.”_

_“But what if he doesn’t?”_ Virgil gestured outward with both hands. _“Maybe he doesn’t need to be scared all the time! If I just took a small step back, and gave the Light Sides more chances at the reins, then we can work together! We can make Thomas—”_

Virgil was cut off suddenly as the fake Deceit, with the flick of his wrist, forced Virgil’s hand to fly up and cover his mouth. 

_“I don’t want to hear any more of that.”_ Deceit was deadly calm. _“This is all my fault. I never should have sent you to them. They’ve clearly corrupted you, turning you against us, when we’ve been the only family you’ve ever known. Listen to me, Virgil. You cannot have it both ways. Thomas’s mind is not set up that way. You are either one of us, meaning you follow our plan, or you can go and be one of them. But I warn you: there’s no going back. And you completely changing the scope of your role within Thomas could potentially put him and all of us at risk. But please, go ahead and make your choice, if you’re so convinced you’re one of them and can make Thomas good.”_

He released Virgil’s hand, and Virgil stared at him in disbelief. _“You’re…you’re kicking me out?!”_

_“I’m giving you a choice. This is how Thomas functions. You are either dark or light. Hero or villain. Bad or good.”_ Deceit’s throat caught. _“If you love your precious Light Sides so much, then go ahead and try to be one. But know this: I know _all_ of Thomas’s truths, every dark secret he has ever tried to lock away. He knows he isn’t good. So any work you attempt to do with the Light Sides will ultimately be in vain.”_

Virgil’s devastation abruptly mutated into ire. _“I’ll show you,”_ he growled. _“I’ll show all of you! Thomas is good, I know he is! He doesn’t need Dark Sides. He doesn’t need you!”_ He scrubbed at his tears, ruining his eyeshadow. _“And I don’t need you, either!”_

Then he spun around and stormed out of the scene in front of them.

The figures faded, returning to the mirror in the floor.

Thomas gawked, losing the sensation in his fingers from squeezing his own hands. His face was burning—from shock or just pure emotion, he didn’t know. 

“So, now you know.”

Thomas swallowed, searching for words. “You…kicked him out?”

“I presented Virgil with two paths,” Deceit said. “He could either keep things the way they were, or leave it all behind for something new. Keep his excellent prize, or open the mystery box. Double or nothing.”

“You forced his hand!”

“I didn’t _force_ anything. He, of his own right, chose to abandon the life he’d been living for thirty years with us, only to join a silly gang of imbeciles who take pride in helping with the most ridiculous ethical squabbles.” He gave Thomas a grim smile. “It didn’t even work at first. After your Light Sides made it apparent they didn’t respect his perspective when he left us, he ducked out.”

“But—we _did_ respect his perspective! I was a mess after he left. We went to his room to tell him so and everything!”

“Yes, a whole lot of good that did—nearly corrupting the Light Sides and sending you spiraling into a full blown panic attack. Which, may I remind you, followed shortly after the Light Sides realized your behavior was consistent with your complete lacking of any fight-or-flight reflexes or natural survival instincts.” Deceit’s jaw clenched. “His actions were irresponsible. He almost brought disaster to us all—just to be accepted as one of _them_.”

Thomas hated it, but he couldn’t evade the nasty voice in the back of his head: _Maybe it was a bad idea for him to leave._ It wasn’t until he heard it with his own ears that he realized he’d said it out loud, and covered his mouth in horror.

“Finally, Thomas, you’re talking some sense!” Deceit smirked. “The room makes you tell the truth, remember?”

“Let me get this straight,” Thomas demanded, trying to swerve the conversation away from his accidentally spoken “truth.” “When I’d first started making the Sanders Sides videos, you sent Virgil as some sort of weird double agent to spy on us and veer all of my decisions in the direction you wanted? And when he actually _liked_ working with us, and tried to reason with you, you threw him out of your clique?”

“Thomas, I didn’t bring you here just so you could get this so wrong. You wanted the truth? Here’s the truth.” Deceit’s eyes were searing. “I sent Virgil so that we could finally have a _voice_. You’ve been suppressing us your entire life! I just wanted our point of view acknowledged. I wanted to _help you_. But imagine how it feels for your plan to not only backfire, but to lose your best friend in the process!”

He stood up abruptly at the last word, knocking over his mimosa and sending it spilling onto the floor. The sound of shattering glass filled the silence as Deceit panted, fists at his sides.

Thomas watched him, and the hardness that’d been shelved in his heart for so long withered. His face softened as he took a quick glance around the room, and he reached back to scratch the back of his neck, sniffling. “You were friends.”

Deceit’s shoulders dropped, the tension leaving his body like he’d lost all his energy. “He was my best friend. And I sent him into the lion’s den, thinking he’d never actually want to join it for himself. That he’d ever leave us for them, yearning for a ‘better’ that I hadn’t known he’d wanted. A life he didn’t think I could give him. So, he left, thinks the very fact that I exist makes you a horrible person, and hates me. And it’s all my fault, because I was trying to be a part of your life.” He straightened up, fixing his sleeves, as the façade took over again, his gaze landing on Thomas like an arrow finding its bullseye. “So, there’s your truth. Happy now?”


	7. Like a Knife in the Woods

**Chapter 7: Like a Knife in the Woods**

Thomas felt like an idiot.

Which happened a lot when he discussed his issues with his sides. After all, it was their job to point out the obvious to him, to steer him in the direction they dubbed correct. When he first met Patton, Logan, and Roman, he was so willing to listen to what they said because he’d always been someone who needed guidance (even if was from himself). They made him laugh, were interested in the same things as him, had the same goals as him, and, most importantly, had the same means in mind of how to achieve those goals.

The introduction of Virgil had complicated things, for sure. A side of him that _scared_ him? A side that actively tried to pop the little bubble he’d blown up with his three main sides? It had been throwing everything off. 

But then Thomas had started listening to him. _Really_ listening to him. And everything had…balanced out. He had a devil’s advocate in his head that brought up the things Thomas had never thought thought as positive traits before Virgil. All of the sudden, double checking everything from the front door being locked before bed to having all of the essentials before leaving the house didn’t make him paranoid, it made him _meticulous_ and _detail-oriented_. Practicing everything from making a phone call, paying for a sandwich in person at the counter, or public speaking in front of a mirror over and over again before actually doing it didn’t make him nuts, it showed that he didn’t want to mess anything up by not being prepared. He was anxious because he didn’t want anything to go wrong. He was anxious because he _cared_. And completely twisting his vantage point on anxiety the feeling (and Anxiety the side) had made everything better. _Thomas_ was better. 

Which certainly explained why now, standing in Deceit’s room, fighting with a side he’d been neglecting to listen to out of fear of what that side existing meant about _him_, Thomas experienced a dizzying sense of déjà vu. 

He really hadn’t learned anything from accepting Virgil. Because he was allowing the same thing to happen _again_.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thomas, I know all of this may be hard to hear, but—” Deceit went rigid, soaking in Thomas’s statement like a sponge. “Wait, _what_?” 

Thomas wrapped his arms around himself, feeling hollow. “This is all my fault. Isn’t it? All this Light Side, Dark Side nonsense. All this _conflict_. I didn’t do it on purpose, but it is my fault. And I’m sorry. I haven’t been listening to your guidance, when all you’ve been trying to do it help, because I’ve been _scared_ of you. And that’s not fair.”

Deceit stared at him, stunned. “You don’t have to say any of this—”

“Yes, I do,” Thomas replied doggedly. “Virgil got to hear it. You deserve to hear it, too.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “You are a side of me. A _part_ of me. I can’t run away from that anymore. Brushing you off is only going to make things worse. Being afraid of you is just gonna make things _worse_. I don’t want anymore fighting, or tricks, or shutting anyone out.” He saw his reflection in the floor, a mirage of what he wanted, of what _Deceit_ wanted. “I just want to be…whole. And I can’t do that without you.” 

“You’re…you’re serious.” It wasn’t a question. It was as if Deceit couldn’t believe what was happening, and was asking Thomas to pinch him to make sure he wasn’t asleep. “You mean it? You want me to start helping you?”

“I think you’ve always been trying to help me. What I’m saying is that I think I should actually start _letting_ you help me.” 

He faltered, raising his eyes to Deceit, and was met with the sight of his deceitful side holding his yellow-gloved hands to his chest, seemingly touched. And speechless, apparently, because he didn’t say anything at first, instead watching Thomas with intelligent, glimmering eyes. Then he cleared his throat, ran his hands down his clothes, and responded, “Hm. Well said, Thomas. I…appreciate the sentiment. And the epiphany. I would be honored to be included in your little decision-making sessions. Remus, I’m sure, would agree.” He pursed his lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re _not_ welcome,” Thomas replied, stifling a smile.

Deceit allowed a grin of his own to reach the surface of his villainous charade. “Oh, so now he’s got jokes? Very funny. I won’t let you down, Thomas. Now that you’ve accepted me, my influence can drive you so much farther in your career. We’ll take over the world!” He smirked. “Starting with the callback.”

The smile dropped from Thomas’s face. “Um, what?”

“Oh, come now, surely you didn’t think I was going to drop the subject because of what _Roman_ decided. I can sense it within you, your heart lies with the callback!” Deceit began to pace, gesturing erratically as he schemed. “And not to worry, it’s not too late to whip up a little white lie for Lee and Mary Lee. I can get to work on it immediately. But time is of the essence, you may have to call the casting directors first thing tomorrow morning in order to lock down your spot in the audition line-up. Or right now! Leave a strongly worded voicemail, they can always just call you back in the morning. Ooh, this is going to be delicious, your career is going to _take off_ after this movie—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Thomas interrupted, waving his arms. “Deceit, I’m sorry, I know I said I wanted to work with you more, but, I, uh…I think the book is closed on the whole callback thing.”

Deceit’s back had been to him, so upon hearing Thomas’s words, Deceit froze, then spun around on his heel to face Thomas. The scales on his face seemed to flare, like a reptile defending itself in the wild. “_Excuse_ me?”

_Oh no. What did I just do?_ “Well, it’s—um—it’s just,” he stammered, “I mean, we already talked about this, I already RSVP’d to the wedding, so, er, the right thing to do, in the end, is…go to the wedding…sorry?”

Deceit blinked at him, disbelieving, before darkness shrouded his face. His body tensed up, his hands becoming fists at his sides as the lights flickered in his room, as if the storm outside in the Dark Side was worsening. “So. This is what it _always_ comes back to. The _good in you_,” he sneered. “What happened to wanting to listen to _me_? Already changing your mind, Thomas? Am I still too _bad_ for you?”

“What—no!” Thomas was unnerved by the change he was seeing in Deceit. What had just happened in the past thirty seconds? “I _do_ want to listen to you! But—but—I just can’t _lie_ to my friends. That’s not right.”

“Oh, I’ll show you what’s _right_, Thomas.” Deceit clapped twice, and a new figure grew from the mirror in the floor: the reflection of himself Thomas had been seeing while he was in Deceit’s room. “As I’m sure you’ve figured out already, this is the you that you _want_ to be. Successful, wealthy, beloved, flawless. This is the you that you can become if you listen to me. Going to that callback is just the first step in transforming into the you of your dreams!”

If Thomas wasn’t so nervous, he would have scoffed. “Deceit, don’t be dramatic. Missing one callback isn’t going to ruin my life.”

“Oh? Is that what you _really_ think?”

“No. I actually think my entire career is riding on acing this one callback, and that missing it will be an omen for bad things to come.” Thomas groaned as he held both hands over his mouth. “Gosh darn it, I keep forgetting where I am!”

“See? Why are you denying yourself what you truly want? You want to be famous. You want your work to be revered by millions. You can do that by going to the callback!” Deceit raised an brow. “Or am I wrong? You actually _want_ to attend the wedding? You want to sit in the back row, surrounded by strangers, wasting phone battery that you’ll need later to call the Uber home by playing Candy Crush during the whole ceremony, trying to disparage yourself from thinking about how _alone_ you are?”

_Ouch._ That one hurt. “You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

“Well, apparently I do. Virgil wasn’t wrong when he used to go on about how the only way he could get you to listen to him was by frightening you.” He sighed theatrically. “I suppose I _will_ have to be the bad guy here.”

Thomas’s heart skipped a beat. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Let’s review. So, _this_”—Deceit threw a thumb over his shoulder at the “dream” Thomas—“is who you want to be. The only you that can be achieved by following my guidance. And _this_ is the you you’ll become if you continue to defy me.”

A second figure rose up, and this one made Thomas squeak in discomfort. It was him, but he looked…_horrible_. His hair was shaggy and an ugly shade of brown. The circles under his eyes could have rivaled Virgil’s. His face had a sunken pallor that eerily reminded him of a skeleton. He was in sweatpants and slippers, his mouth set in a stony grimace.

“This is you,” Deceit purred, “if you never listened to me, and therefore never did anything for yourself. You’re exhausted and unhappy all the time because you’re constantly giving yourself away to others. You’re starting to resent your friends and family. You’re giving up on the dreams you don’t have the time and motivation for anymore. Your career is falling apart. You’re in a constant state of just…numb.”

Thomas grit his teeth. “Deceit, stop it, it’s not funny anymore.”

“And while we’re being _truthful_,” Deceit continued as if he hadn’t even heard Thomas, “I heard each and every one of those thoughts you had when you were bringing us here. Those nasty little parts of you that you don’t like? Well, Thomas, it’s all true. You are selfish. You are a coward. You are naïve, spineless, and pitiful. You are _bad_.”

As Deceit rattled off each trait, a different Thomas rose from the floor, symbolizing a part of Thomas he didn’t like. A Thomas to his left was curled into a ball, rocking back and forth on the ground. A Thomas to his right sniggered as he glanced at his nails, seemingly uncaring of any of the chaos occurring around him. Another Thomas had a blank, goofy look on his face as he swung his arms back and forth and giggled. 

Thomas backpedaled, overwhelmed. “Deceit—stop!” he pleaded. “I’m—I’m not a bad person…”

“Do you know why you’re so concerned with being good?” Deceit asked, making his way through the throng of Thomases to stand in front of the real one. There was a cruel glint in his snake eye as he explained, “Because you don’t _have_ any good. The good in you doesn’t _exist_. Patton’s purpose is to overcompensate and bamboozle you into this silly narrative that you are a good, sweet, and kind person. The sooner you accept this, the sooner you can begin living realistically.”

“You’re—you’re lying!” Thomas shouted. He could feel his heart rate picking up, his chest tight and his hands trembling. It felt like the walls were rapidly closing in on him, boxing him into a jail cell that was much too small. This was too much all at once. _Too much._

“Face the facts, Thomas.” Deceit lazily swirled his index finger, and all the Thomases sunk back into the floor before a bigger figure emerged: a shadow Thomas, with glowing, lifeless eyes. Thomas would have thought it was a Heartless from Kingdom Hearts if it didn’t look _exactly like him_. “You came here for the truth, and this is the true you: devoid of good, filled to the brim with faults and flaws, making one mistake after another. A bad person who will _always. Be. Alone_.”

The shadow Thomas reached a claw out, as if to grab him, and Thomas stumbled back.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Virgil sat up in bed with a gasp, his hand grasping for his hammering heart. 

Thomas was panicking. _Thomas was panicking._ This was no joke—whatever he was doing now was terrifying him in a way Virgil had never felt before, making him nearly hysterical. Virgil felt every shake, every raspy breath Thomas was forcing through his teeth, every jump of his pulse, every shiver of his soul. 

Screw all the awkwardness that was between them right now. Thomas needed him, and had needed him this whole time. He had to protect Thomas from whatever was hurting him _right now_.

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on finding Thomas. As he zeroed in on his location, Virgil’s stomach dropped.

Thomas wasn’t being threatened by something on the outside.

He was being threatened by something on the _inside_.

Fury exploded in his bloodstream like a firework as he vanished from his room.

Or some_one_.


	8. One Temptation Sparked This

**Chapter 8: One Temptation Sparked This**

Thomas hit the floor hard. He glanced down, catching a glimpse of the very same fear that he was feeling in his reflection. He covered his head with his arms, trying to defend himself from the blow that he knew was coming from the weird Heartless Thomas.

But it never came.

And when Thomas opened his eyes to find out why, his heart leapt into his throat.

Standing in front of him, clutching the hand of Heartless Thomas with his own closed fist, was a figure in a familiar stitched purple hoodie.

“Virgil!” 

Virgil threw the hand he had stopped away from them, Heartless Thomas falling backwards into the mirror floor and disappearing. With the threat gone, Virgil whipped his head around, frantically assessing Thomas for injuries.

“Thomas! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay,” Thomas breathed, flabbergasted. “Virge—oh my gosh, Virge, it’s you!”

Virgil, relieved to see Thomas safe, swung his head forward, glowering at Deceit, who seemed as shocked as Thomas by Virgil’s presence. “Next question. Deceit, what the frick _is Thomas doing here_?”

The second half of Virgil’s demand was laced with his Tempest Tongue, causing it to reverberate around the room. 

Deceit’s outrage subsided as he slid back into his sleazy persona, nonchalantly crossing one arm across his chest to tuck it under his opposite elbow, other hand holding his chin. “Why don’t you ask the person who wanted to come?”

Virgil snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t even try to lie to me right now, I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m not lying,” Deceit deadpanned. “Ask him.”

Virgil hesitated, then turned to face Thomas with a questioning expression. “Thomas. What is he talking about? What’s going on here?”

Thomas scrambled to his feet. “Virge, I can explain—”

“Don’t _Virge_ me. You came here willingly? You were talking to Deceit _alone_ without any of us there to protect you? Are you crazy?”

“Oh, stop acting like I’m something you have to protect him from,” Deceit snapped. “I would never hurt him.”

“Really?” Virgil contested. “Then why did I suddenly hone in on Thomas having a panic attack, only to find him with you? Why am I showing up to you threatening him with…whatever _that_ was?”

“So I…lost my temper,” Deceit relinquished. “I’ll apologize for that. But don’t try to pin this on me. You started this whole…_debacle_ because you wouldn’t just tell him the truth. He had to come to me for it.”

“The truth?” 

“The whole truth. You know exactly what I mean, Virgil.”

Virgil froze, rounding on Thomas. “Thomas…You went behind my back? To _Deceit_, of all people?” Hurt, fear, and anger unfurled within Virgil like the sail of a ship in the wind. “How could you?”

“I didn’t want to!” Thomas cried. “It’s just—you dropped that little _truth bomb_ on me yesterday and then _left_. And you’ve been ignoring me when all I’ve wanted is just to talk all of this out! I was desperate! I wanted to understand—”

“Did you ever stop to think,” Virgil growled, “that I didn’t want you to know? That I didn’t think you’d be _able_ to understand?”

“But I do!” The frustration was building in him like a pot about to overflow. “All I’ve ever wanted is to _understand_, Virgil. Why do you think I came all the way here?”

“But—” Virgil stopped, his bangs rustling to rest in his eyes. “Don’t you hate me?”

Thomas sucked in a quick breath, unable to speak. “You think I hate you?”

“Because—because of what I was. Because of what I told you, and what I’m sure Deceit told you.” Virgil hunched in on himself, growing smaller. “I lied to you and the others. I was trying to hurt you, in the beginning. It was never about helping you through the teeniest of problems, it was about scaring you so much that you listened to us. And the way you reacted yesterday…” Virgil hugged himself. “I thought it was all over.”

Thomas didn’t even know what to say. Virgil hadn’t been avoiding him because he hated Thomas—it was because he thought _Thomas_ hated _him_. It had never been about not trusting Thomas with the truth: Virgil legitimately thought Thomas was going to shun him because he used to be a Dark Side. 

He was just now realizing how much damage he’d done by making everything so black in white unconsciously. Everything was so messed up—Deceit and Remus were unwelcome; Roman, Patton, and Logan were constantly on guard; and poor Virgil had been dealing with some crazy identity crisis of Thomas’s own design for who knew how long.

Enough was enough.

“I don’t hate you,” Thomas said softly. “I could never hate you. You’re my anxiety—you’re a part of me.”

Virgil’s laugh was bitter like a shot of espresso. “I’m _Paranoia_, remember? I thought Deceit told you everything.”

“But you _identify_ as Anxiety. You chose to have a more functional, helpful purpose for me. For Roman, Logan, and Patton! No matter what, you’re Virgil.” Thomas sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. “And that’s all that matters to me.”

Virgil’s eyes widened in surprise before a slow clap interrupted them.

“This is a simply _darling_ moment between you two,” Deceit mused. “So much character development.”

“Deceit, look.” Thomas tried to keep his shaking voice as level as possible. “I appreciate you telling me everything I wanted to know. I appreciate you wanting to help me with the callback. But I’d like to go home now.”

“Oh, sure.” Deceit tucked his hands behind his back, cocking his head. “Let’s go home. Let’s go back out _there_ so things can go back to normal. Virgil gets to frolic with the Light Sides, making flower crowns and discussing feelings, and I’ll stay in here, hiding in the dark until Thomas needs to lie to get out of a dentist’s appointment. Splendid.”

“I don’t want things to be that way,” Thomas implored. “I don’t want Dark Sides or Light Sides or whatever. I just want _sides_. I want you and Remus out there with us.”

“_What_? Thomas, no, you don’t.” Virgil shot a glare over his shoulder at Deceit. “I don’t know what lies he put in your head, but accepting them into the group is _not_ a good idea. Don’t you know what listening to them means?”

“What’s wrong, Virgil?” Deceit taunted. “Jealous that I’m Thomas’s new favorite Dark Side?”

“Shut _up_,” Virgil yelled. He was panting, sweat dripping down his temple. “This whole thing is all your fault, anyway.”

“Why?” Deceit asked sharply. “Because I gave you a choice and you _made_ a choice?”

“Because you threw me out!” 

_Crash!_ Lightning struck a hole through one of the walls of Deceit’s room, revealing the swirling storm outside in the Dark Side growing in severity. The gold wallpaper lining the hole in the wall was scorched black by the lightning, wind whistling into the room and circling them like a fuming tornado. The room went sideways, framed photos clattering and pillows flying off the couch. Thomas was shoved into the opposite wall, ducking to avoid debris. Instinctually, his arm shot out to grab his camera before it got smashed as it tumbled from the tripod. He struggled to regain his balance as Deceit and Virgil were locked in a stare down, unaffected by the chaos around them. Thomas realized with a start that Deceit had six of his stretchy arms out, catching the pinwheeling pictures and trophies like they were precious valuables.

“Don’t push me, Virgil.” Deceit’s voice was ice. “Not here. Not now.”

“Why? I thought your room was all about _truth_.” Virgil was wild, his eyeshadow dark and liquified like ink against his furious face. “What happened was never about choice. It was about ultimatum. You didn’t like that I actually felt _comfortable_ with the Light Sides! That I was _happy_!”

“And do you know what that happiness could have cost us?” Deceit challenged. “Your guard was down. You were distracted, your work was sloppy. Thomas could have been hit by a bus or mugged at gunpoint because you were too busy with them to watch out for potential hazards. Thomas could have _died_.”

_“I never would have let that happen!”_

Thomas shrunk back at Virgil’s rage, wind whipping his hair from all sides. He’d never heard the Tempest Tongue like that. For a moment, he was baffled as to why Virgil was suddenly so full of wrath, but then memories of the other Light Sides becoming anxious messes in Virgil’s room and nostalgic puddles in Patton’s room surfaced, and the answer hit him like a punch to the gut. 

“Deceit!” Thomas bellowed over the mayhem. “We have to get Virgil out of here!”

“Why?” Deceit answered, defiant. 

Thomas was perplexed by Deceit’s indifference. “_Why_? Look at him!" He lunged to the left to avoid a head-on collision with an airborne coffee table. “He’s being corrupted by your room!”

Virgil’s fury was possessing him, his shoulders rising and falling with every heavy inhale and exhale. He was practically snarling: Thomas could see the white of his clenched teeth and the bouncing blue of the veins in his neck, even from feet away. 

“That’s correct.” Deceit’s smirk was predatory. “It’s alright, though, he won’t be hurt. He’ll just be compelled to tell all of the truths that are eating away at him. So, please, Virgil, go on. You’re clearly _dying_ to spill.”

Before Thomas could stop him, a rant erupted from Virgil’s mouth. 

“All my life I’ve wanted to please you. So when you came to me and said I should be the one to spy on Thomas and the Light Sides, I jumped on it to make you proud! You told me for years how dumb the Light Sides were. But do you know what ended up happening? They were too smart for _me_. Every time I tried to get Thomas on my side, they shut me down. And that was making you so mad and disappointed. You were distancing yourself from me.” He took a shuddering breath. “But the Light Sides saw the good in me. They wanted to listen to me and my opinions, not just assign me one job and expect that job to be carried out. I just wanted us to all get along and work together to make Thomas _good_, not just successful. And what did that _turn_ into?” Virgil’s eyes were blazing. “You _kicked me out_. Of my own home, my own _family_. If the Light Sides hadn’t taken me in, I would have been alone. _More_ alone.”

Thomas’s eyes widened. Glistening green scales were growing across the right side of Virgil’s face and his right hand. The more he spoke, the more the scales eclipsed his regular skin, thunder shaking the whole house in tandem with Virgil’s scorn.

Deceit noticed at the same time as Thomas, and he jerked forward, worry coloring his haughty expression. “Virgil, wait, that’s enough—”

“You hurt me, Deceit,” Virgil went on, tears in his eyes. Deceit recoiled, stricken. “I lived for so long thinking ‘Light’ was bad and that I belonged with you and the others. But then I got to know the Light Sides, and they made me feel so good. You couldn’t stand that and cast me out. I’m on the good side now, but no matter what happens, you’ll never let me forget that at the end of the day, I’ll always be a Dark Side. I’m just a dumb kid playing dress-up.” Virgil crumpled to his knees, head in his hands. “I’m Dark. I’m bad. I’m living a lie. I’ll never be good….”

Thomas narrowed his eyes and stood tall, squaring his shoulders. The hurricane flourishing around him was nothing compared to the determination storming within him. He tried to exchange a glance with Deceit, but the side seemed to be in a daydream, distressed by the sheer amount of truth he’d gotten out of Virgil. 

“That’s it.” Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the storm with his hands over his ears. He thought of home, his waiting Light Sides, and how desperate he was to make everything _stop_. “We’re going home. _Now.”_


	9. You Make Me Forget Who I Am

**Chapter 9: You Make Me Forget Who I Am**

Thomas was plummeting. 

At first, the sensation was kind of nice. There was a split second of defying gravity, and he was warm and comfy, as if encased in a cocoon. He half expected to emerge as a beautiful butterfly any second. 

Instead, he crashed into the ground face-first.

He gasped, ripping the blanket that he was tangled in off his face. He was breathing hard, and he blinked a few times, realizing his “plummeting” was actually him falling off the couch. 

His camera was back on his regular tripod, red light beeping away to indicate it was still filming. He was back in the real world, and (thankfully) out of his own head. He sighed, running a hand down his sweaty face. Had it all been a bad dream? _It’s all over—_

“Sweet mother of Zendaya!”

He jerked with a yelp. Looking up, his Light Sides were still in their typical spots in his living room, watching him with puzzlement and concern. Roman had his sword drawn, Patton was hiding under his cat onesie, and Logan had his hands on his hips with one intrigued brow plucked.

But Thomas was additionally astounded to see Virgil huddled in his usual spot on the stairs, hood pulled over his head, and Deceit standing in the space between Logan and Patton, still and cold as stone.

“Virgil!” Patton cried, relieved smile overtaking his face. 

“I take the visit to the Dark Side brought about some semblance of success?” Logan asked, addressing Deceit.

Deceit sneered, his teeth clenched. He put his hands behind his back, attempting for his normal slick and mysterious image, but Thomas could see right through him, noticing how shaken he was from their encounter in his room. “You _couldn’t_ say that.”

“Virgil?” Roman prompted, lowering his sword. “Are you…alright?”

Virgil grunted, keeping his hood up and his hands in his pockets. He sat on the bottom step of the staircase, hunched over and refusing to directly interact with any of them.

Thomas stumbled to his feet, cringing. _Virge. Oh, no._ It all came rushing back to him: his visit to the Dark Side; finding out the truth from Deceit; Virgil bursting in to protect Thomas, only to be corrupted by Deceit’s room. Watching Virgil run an unconscious hand down the side of his face, as if checking that the scales from Deceit’s room were truly gone, made Thomas feel like someone was tossing salt into his open wound. How in the world could Virgil be feeling right now?

So much for Thomas hating Virgil. Now he was sure _Virgil_ hated _him_.

Roman glared at Deceit, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “What have you done, you serpentine fiend?”

“You _shouldn’t_ ask Thomas about that,” Deceit answered, sneaking a quick peek at his nails again. “He definitely _didn’t_ summon Virgil to my room and nearly corrupt him.”

_“What?”_ all three of the Light Sides yelled.

“It was an accident,” Thomas explained, massaging his temples. “Virgil sensed that I was getting…upset, so he showed up to find out what was going on. We were in Deceit’s room for too long.” He peered at the withdrawn figure on the stairs, voice becoming tender. “Virge?”

Virgil sniffled, lifting his head. His eyes were bloodshot, his makeup smudged around his cheeks. “I’m good.” He coughed and stood up. “I’m fine,” he repeated, gruff. “You can all stop looking at me like that now.”

“But why weren’t you coming down when Thomas called you?” Patton asked. “You don’t have to worry about all that ‘Dark Side’ silliness. Thomas doesn’t care about that! Right, Thomas?”

Thomas and Virgil exchanged a long look. Virgil appeared grave, as if he anticipated Thomas to begin shunning him and expelling him from the living room at any moment.

“I don’t,” Thomas said, surprising himself by how confident he was. “I really don’t, Virge.”

“So there ya go!” Patton beamed, gesturing around to all of them. “Problem solved! Now can we _please_ go back to doing what we do best and watch some dog videos?”

“Problem is surely _not_ solved, Patton,” Logan said with a sigh. “Thomas, did you find what you were searching for on the Dark Side?”

All eyes were on him. He rubbed his upper arm, feeling goosebumps pepper his skin. “Umm…yes?”

“Oh, he _didn’t_ find out everything he wanted to know,” Deceit sliced in, his simper bright and ominous like a crescent moon. “In fact, he found out so _little_ that he _doesn’t_ have more to share with you all about Virgil.”

“More about Virgil?” Roman frowned, puffing his chest out. “Don’t play games with us, Deceit! We already know everything. We know he used to be one of _you_, and all of that is in the past. He is one of us now!”

Deceit howled in laughter, wiping away a tear. “Oh, Roman, you are hilarious. You really thought the only thing Virgil was hiding was that he was _one of us_?”

Logan’s brows shot up into his hairline. Patton gave a small gasp. Roman squared his shoulders and stepped backward, mouth flattening into a thin line. 

Virgil paled, hugging himself and shaking his head. “Dee, please,” he begged. “I’m not ready to tell them. I wasn’t even ready to tell _Thomas_.”

“I thought today’s theme was that people deserve to know what they want to know?” Deceit jeered. “I don’t see why Thomas should get to have all the fun. Why not pull back the curtain and let _everyone_ know what you’ve done? How you _betrayed_ your new family?”

Virgil put his hands over his ears, hood back over his head as he crouched on the stairs. “Please don’t,” he whispered.

“Oh, come now, Virgil,” Deceit started to say, his mocking becoming vicious. “You’re a good friend. Wouldn’t you want your buddies to know that you—”

_“He said to stop, Deceit.”_

In a flash, Deceit’s own hand clasped tightly over his mouth. His eyes went wide and flew to Thomas, who was looking at him with dead seriousness. Deceit attempted to finish his sentence, but his words came out as gibberish. 

Thomas glanced at his other sides, who were watching him, bewildered. Thomas, apologetic, asked Virgil, “Are you okay, Virge?”

Virgil removed his hood again, shocked. “Uh…yeah.”

“Guys, look.” Thomas looked down, wringing his hands. So many different emotions were whirring in his heart. “If I’ve learned anything from this weird mini adventure, it’s that it doesn’t matter what I want to know or what I’m entitled to know. What matters is respecting Virgil’s privacy. We _know_ him; he’ll tell us something when the times comes. I know Deceit’s been dropping hints, but please trust me when I say he’ll tell us everything when he’s ready.” He swallowed, shame beginning to smolder his lungs. “_I_ should have trusted him to do that. And I didn’t, because I was scared. And that was wrong.”

Thomas peeked up. Logan, Roman, and Patton exchanged a glance, clearly thinking over his speech. 

Virgil was looking at Thomas in awe.

“Of course,” Logan said at last. “It would be nonsensical to push Virgil to admit a secret he was not prepared to share with the group yet. It’s imperative to maintain congruence between what Thomas wants internally and how he portrays his desires externally. Virgil, please feel free to”—Logan flipped through a few of his flash cards—“_spill the tea_ whenever you’re comfortable.”

“I second that,” Roman declared, striking a heroic pose. “No dirty little secret will ever break up the Light Sides! Don’t let Deceit get to you, Virgil. You tell us everything when you’re ready.”

“I trust my dark, strange son!” Fervent, Patton reached out toward Virgil, as if going in for an embrace. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it your terms! Together!”

Virgil gaped at all of them, Deceit still struggling to speak from behind his hand. Virgil gave them all a weak, grateful smile, his whole body relaxing as the anxiety drained out of him. “Thanks, guys,” he choked.

Reassured, Thomas turned back to Deceit. He nodded, and Deceit’s hand dropped from his mouth. “I’m sorry I had to do that,” he said soberly. “But…c’mon, dude. You were being a jerk.”

Deceit’s face had hardened, but he boasted a dagger-sharp grin that reminded Thomas of an arrogant Cheshire Cat. “Honestly? I’m impressed, Thomas. I’ve been waiting for you to figure out you could do that. Took you long enough.”

“Deceit, listen. I wasn’t kidding, what I said in your room. I want you and the other Dark Sides involved more in my decision-making. Er, speaking of which…” Thomas half wondered if he was going to regret this. “Remus?”

“WHAT!” Roman and Virgil cried.

The dark side of creativity popped up next to Roman, cackling manically as he fluffed the intricate parts of his costume. Roman cowered, but quickly regained his regal composure when he realized the other sides were watching.

“Woo hoo! About time, Thomas!” Remus whooped. He wiggled his fingers at Thomas in greeting, devilish grin haunting his gaunt face “I’m assuming this means you’re ready to try jumping out of a moving car, _finally_?”

“No, no, no, he’s not doing that,” Virgil objected fiercely.

“Thomas…” Roman was appalled, inching away from Remus like he was contagious. “What are you _doing_? Do I have to remind you of our last encounter with my brother?”

“No, you definitely don’t,” Thomas said, wincing at the memory. “But he has to be here to hear this.”

“Hear _what_?” Roman demanded.

Thomas turned to address his two known Dark Sides. He became aware that there were certainly more of them that Deceit deemed Thomas not ready to meet yet, and that he’d probably have to have this talk over and over again for the rest of his life. “I don’t want Dark and Light Sides anymore. I want _sides_. I know you two are the way that you are _because_ of me and my perceptions of myself. It’s not your fault for being yourselves, it’s mine, and I make it worse by rejecting you. I want—what was that word you used, Logan? Congruence. Fighting each other is just going to make things harder for me, and it’s not fair to you both.” He breathed in once through his nose, and out through his mouth. “I…_value_ you both. And I’m sorry for acting like I didn’t.”

All of his sides didn’t say anything at first, so Thomas decided to further prompt them by adding, “So how about we start things off on the right foot with the callback, huh?”

He certainly got reactions out of _that_.

“CALLBACK?” Roman and Remus shouted in unison, exuberant. They immediately exchanged a surprised glance upon echoing each other.

“But—Thomas—the wedding!” Patton protested, aghast. 

“Yes, Thomas, I don’t know if all of the excitement potentially clouded your memory,” Logan stressed, holding up his calendar, “but in case you’ve forgotten, the callback is still on the same day as Lee and Mary Lee’s wedding. I thought we’d decided out of that ridiculous court room fiasco that the wedding was best?”

“Thomas…” Virgil said nervously. “Think about what you’re proposing here. Lee and Mary Lee might find out that you lied to them. What if you post on your Instagram story about being in the city of the callback and they find out? What if they get so mad that they hate you forever? Then your other friends might find out and hate you too…”

Deceit was the only side to not contribute to the discussion yet, which was a first. He was surveying the scene with interest, cautiously watching Thomas and gauging his movements, as if he didn’t believe him.

“I know there are a lot of issues that come with lying to them,” Thomas told the group simply. “So, I’m not lying to them. I’m going to tell them the truth.”

“You’re just gonna…tell them you’re not going to their wedding?” Patton questioned, lost.

“I don’t want to lie to them unnecessarily. They’re my friends. They deserve the truth. They deserve congruence,” he added, earning a small smile from Logan. “I’m going to be real with them. I’ve got a big callback the day of their wedding that is super important to me, and going to the wedding will make me feel bad about myself.”

He said the last part with a dreariness that snuck up on him out of nowhere, and caught the worried glance Virgil was shooting his way in his peripherals. 

“Deceit is right,” Thomas said, “in bringing up that I have to do things for myself sometimes. This opportunity is _so_ big—and I clearly care about it a lot, if it keeps coming back up in these discussions. I have to do this for me. Even if I don’t get the role, even if I bomb the audition out of nerves—I have to at least _try_.”

All six of his (currently known) sides appraised his decision for a couple moments before reacting appropriately. 

Roman and Remus were practically vibrating with elation. “This is going to be amazing!” Roman cried, performing a ballerina twirl. “Thomas is off to Hollywood!”

“Our dreams are finally coming true!” Remus added, nodding giddily at his brother. “Now, Thomas, we _must_ discuss what you’re going to wear to the callback. We have to grab their attention. I’m thinking sparkly gold underwear, and _just_ sparkly gold underwear—”

“Ah, we’ll talk about that closer to the callback date, Remus,” Thomas said with a laugh. “What is everyone else thinking about this?”

“Well, Thomas, if you insist on the gold underwear, you must, at least, coordinate them well with your shoes,” Logan replied, adjusting his glasses. “They’ll be searching for professionalism at this callback.”

“I more so meant the concept of going to the callback instead of the wedding,” Thomas said, “but point taken, Logan.”

“Ah. Well.” Logan shrugged, arms loosely crossed over his chest. “I’ve been indifferent to this particular ethical dilemma for three videos now. I weighed the positives and negatives of either choice, and it all comes down to you, Thomas. But from my perspective, it is quite evident that disregarding your desire to attend the callback has introduced some particularly maladaptive behaviors. If selecting the callback will erase some of these qualms that have been affecting your daily routine, then, yes, please, continue on with the congruence and go to the callback.”

Thomas faced his morality. “Patton? Thoughts?”

Patton sighed, twisting the sleeves of his cat onesie in and out of a knot. “Kiddo, level with me here. This is really what you want? I know you don’t want to lie, but…we’d be dropping out of a commitment we made _months_ ago. What if Lee and Mary Lee are upset with us? This is their big day, and we’d be _missing_ it when we already said we’d go. It’s just…” Patton buried his face into his onesie as it hung around his shoulders. “It’s _not right_.”

“Pat…” Thomas reached out to him, wanting so desperately for his side to, well…be on his side. “You don’t have to agree with me here. I respect that you don’t love what I’m thinking of doing. But, just like we talked about with the intrusive thoughts, it’s okay if we don’t always agree. It’s okay if I’m not always pure and perfect. I’m still always going to be Thomas. It may not be right to do this, but…it’s not _wrong_.” He gave Patton a pleading look. “I mean, c’mon Pat. Don’t you want me happy at the callback instead of miserable at the wedding?”

Patton nodded, absorbing his words. “Oh, Thomas,” he said suddenly, eyes shimmering with tears, “all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. That’s one of the best things about you! And if going to this callback makes you happy…” He gave him a watery smile. “Then let’s do it.”

Thomas beamed. “Thank you, Patton.” Slowly, he turned to face the staircase, and the pensive, hesitant side that stood in front of it. “Virge?”

Virgil glanced around at the other sides: Logan, content; Patton, supportive; Roman and Remus, heads overflowing with ideas for the callback; and Deceit, trying to put up an unreadable wall, but splinters of satisfaction trickling through the cracks. Then his eyes met Thomas’s and seemed to see the certainty there, because he said with a small chuckle, “Better start practicing those lines, Sanders. Don’t wanna choke again.”

Remus and Roman jumped for joy. Patton stretched out his arm to attempt for a highfive from Logan, who halfheartedly returned it. While Thomas was trying to hold down his breakfast upon seeing the stretched arm trick again, he noticed the subtle look Deceit and Virgil were sharing. A look that appeared to say, at least for now, _truce_.

“Now that this is all settled,” Logan said, “I do believe it’s about time Thomas had a nap. He hasn’t had a proper eight hours of sleep in days due to all of these distractions. Thomas,” he added pointedly, “how are you feeling?”

As soon as Logan said it, Thomas felt like he was going to drop. He yawned and swayed a little, his vision swimming. Roman rushed forward, as if prepared to catch Thomas if he passed out on the spot, but Thomas reassured them, “I’m cool, guys. Lack of sleep is just catching up with me. Maybe it _is_ naptime.”

Roman cleared his throat, turning to Remus. “Well, since it’s time to let Thomas catch some ZZZ’s…and if Thomas thinks it would be best for him if you were more involved…would you, perhaps, be interested in collaborating in my room to prepare for the callback…bro?”

Remus blinked, one eye at a time, as if stunned. Then a mischievous grin spread across his face and he did a little dance, grabbing Roman’s hands. “Oh, bro, that sounds positively delightful! A regular ol’ brainstorming session! Say, have you ever thought about what an actual brainstorm would be like? Pink goo all over the neighborhood! White and gray matter _everywhere_!”

“I haven’t, but we can talk about that more later,” Roman said. Watching him now, Thomas saw a truly patient brother who seemed to have taken Thomas’s acceptance speech to heart. There was certainly more to their story that he didn’t know yet, but he could wait a while before finding out more about himself. 

“Oh, goody!” Remus cheered. “Sorry about the old whack attack from the other day, by the way. Couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s alright, Remus. Wouldn’t be the first time, after all. This just means I have to get you back!”

“Another sneak attack! You impress me, Ro!”

Roman glanced over at Thomas, smiling widely. “We’re gonna go work in my room. Now that the callback is a go, we must get you ready for the opportunity of a lifetime!”

“Sounds good to me, guys,” Thomas laughed. “Have fun.”

“Byeeeeeeeee!” Roman and Remus sang together as they sank out.

“I’ll be next to depart, Thomas,” Logan said, shaking his head at the brothers’ antics. “If you insist on this callback being the right direction, then I must rearrange your calendar for the next few weeks so that you may adequately prepare.” He held up the calendar from their trial with Deceit, using a red marker to cross out “WEDDING” on April 13th and replace it with “CALLBACK.” “In addition, you will need to begin allocating time every day for practicing your lines, and budgeting so that you can afford new clothes and transportation to the city where the callback will take place. We may also have to film many videos in advance to compensate for the time you will be away for the callback, so now we must revise your production schedule, as well—”

“Lo,” Thomas cut him off with a weak laugh. “I’m all for the forward thinking, but maybe we can save all that for tomorrow?”

Logan softened, providing a curt nod. “Of course, how foolish of me. You’re going to need your rest first before we can tackle the necessary steps for the callback. Go on and sleep, Thomas. We’ll begin first thing in the morning.”

“Thanks, Logan,” Thomas replied, smiling. “You’re really the coolest guy I know.” 

Logan smiled back, appreciative, before sinking out.

Thomas glanced at a morose Patton, who was fidgeting with his sweater sleeves. “You okay, Pat?”

“Am _I_ okay?” Patton asked, troubled. “Kiddo, I should be asking if _you’re_ okay. You just went through a _lot_.”

“I mean…I’m all good in the hood. Learned a lot about myself today, experienced some character development and some existential self-reflection.” Thomas shrugged. “Just another Monday.”

Patton frowned. “Are you mad at me?”

“_What_? No! Pat, why would I be mad at you?”

“I’m the one that made everything so messed up! I’ve been the side holding you back from the callback this whole time, when it’s what you’ve truly wanted. I’ve been the one stopping you from being…what did Logan call it? Confluent?”

“Congruent,” Virgil spoke up suddenly, joining the conversation. “And Pat, it’s not your fault. I’ve been holding Thomas back, too. We didn’t want him to become a bad person.”

“And he _won’t_,” Deceit answered. He’d been observing from the corner, stoic, and now had a need to contribute while he had Thomas’s attention. “If that’s what you’re so concerned with, this _won’t_ make him a bad person. Rather, he’ll feel fulfilled, accomplished, and, most importantly, _happy_. I don’t want him wasting away at some ridiculous wedding because that’s what society deems _right_. Because while it might be right for society, it’s _not_ right for Thomas.”

Patton nodded slowly. “I get it…yeah, I get it. Sometimes, it’s more important to decide what’s right for Thomas, not for everyone else.” He gave Deceit a sheepish thumbs-up. “Thank you for sticking up for Thomas, Deceit. Sorry we weren’t doing the same thing when we should have been.”

Deceit’s arms flopped to his sides, startled. “Oh…er…you’re _not_ welcome, Patton.”

Patton giggled, shooting finger guns at Thomas. “Go take a breather, kiddo. You earned it,” he added as he sunk out.

Thomas’s smile was warm as Patton left. He was so relieved Patton wasn’t pushing the wedding anymore and that he could move on with his life. While there were still fleeting shreds of guilt, he knew going to the callback was what was best. He could only imagine what it would have been like to go to the wedding instead: forcing himself to wear a scratchy suit he’d have to rent; sitting in the back during the ceremony, sun in his eyes as he overheated in a throng of strangers; drowning his sorrows about being single in _way_ too many specialty cocktails from the bar and ultimately spending too much money on a ride home.

It wasn’t a pretty picture. And maybe he was being pessimistic about the whole thing: the wedding couldn’t be _that_ bad. But in his heart, he knew he cared about the callback much more.

And Deceit had seen that since the beginning.

It suddenly occurred to Thomas that Virgil and Deceit were the final sides left. The two were glaring at each other from opposite sides of the room, Virgil’s arms crossed over his chest and Deceit’s resolve hard as steel. Thomas sighed, hand scrubbing at his forehead.

“Okay, guys,” he said. “Clearly, there’s a lot of bad blood here.”

Virgil’s eyes were rimmed with red, and his entire body was tense. “You think?” His voice was fraying. 

Thomas frowned, swinging his gaze toward Deceit. “You owe us both an apology.”

He expected a sarcastic remark, or even a laugh at Thomas’s demand. Instead, Deceit hunched over, as if bearing a weight on his shoulders. “I…I apologize.”

“Wait. Legit?” Thomas queried, surprised.

“I can’t excuse the behavior I displayed in my room,” Deceit continued, glancing away and lowering the rim of his hat. “I shouldn’t have berated you, Thomas, nor should I have been trying to sway you. I should have remembered how dangerous my room can be and how strong its influence on me is. I’ve been livid and I allowed it to cloud my judgment. I…I shouldn’t have hurt you the way that I did.” He took a shaking breath. “The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. All I’ve ever wanted was to _help_ you.”

Thomas’s mouth hung open.

“And Virgil…” Deceit met Virgil’s eyes, desperate. “I shouldn’t have shut you out so long ago. It was wrong to excise you from the group. The more time you spent with the Light Sides, you more enamored you became with them and their values. I was terrified…that I was losing you, and that it was all my fault. I was so _livid_ because I thought you’d found something better, and that you’d compromise Thomas in the process. But I see now I’ve been wrong in putting up walls and drawing lines in the sand. In the end, we are _all_ Thomas. And I should respect that, as well as your choices.”

Virgil went slack, blinking at Deceit like an owl. The distrust slowly dissolved from his body, clearly replaced by shock. “I’ll be honest,” he said, begrudgingly sympathetic. “I never thought I’d ever hear you say that.”

“And I’ll be honest,” Deceit replied. “I should have said it a long time ago. It shouldn’t have taken me hearing your true feelings in my room for me to admit it.”

Virgil flushed, hands in his hoodie pocket. “Oh, yeah. That.”

“That doesn’t have to ever leave Deceit’s room, by the way,” Thomas offered gently.

Virgil nodded, grateful, as he pursed his lips. “Thanks.”

“I mean it,” Deceit added, threading his fingers together in front of his chest. “I apologize for hurting both of you. I want to be a major player in your decision-making, Thomas, but not if you don’t want me to. I don’t want to force you into anything. Maybe I don’t deserve to, after the way I’ve behaved,” he ruminated, hand now caressing the scaled half of his face. “After all, why would you ever want an old reptile like me in your life?”

“He does!” Virgil argued suddenly. Upon Deceit’s look of surprise, Virgil went on, “He _needs_ you. He needs all of us. Who is going to come up with a good lie when some creep asks for Thomas’s number? Or push the importance of Thomas’s desires when he’s feeling discouraged? Or advocate for him to do something for himself when the rest of us are too obsessed with him doing something for someone else? Thomas needs you. We need you.” Virgil glanced away, muttering, “_I_ need you.”

Deceit wrinkled his brow, astonished. 

“Look, yes, you’ve done some really crummy stuff over the years,” Virgil relinquished. “I hated that you kicked me out of the Dark Sides. I hated _you_ for a really long time, and what you represented within Thomas. But it’s hypocritical of me to treat you like some sickness when I hated the Light Sides for doing the very same thing to me. To _us_. We are all Thomas,” Virgil echoed. “Which, to me, means we are all good.”

Deceit stared, disbelieving, before he collected himself. He seemed lighter, unburdened, as if the weight wasn’t pushing him down anymore. “Hm. Well. Thank you, Virgil. That was very…generous.”

“Yeah, Virge, that was really nice,” Thomas supplied, pride radiating from him.

Virgil shrugged. “I can be nice.”

“So…” Thomas pointed between the two of them. “Are you guys finally…good?”

Virgil took a deep breath. “It’ll take me a while to fully forgive you,” he told Deceit, who nodded in understanding, “but I’m willing to move on from this if you are. For Thomas.”

“For Thomas,” Deceit repeated, agreeing.

Virgil then yawned and stretching, scratching the back of his neck. “Now, if we’re done sorting through all this emotional baggage, I’d like to go back to bed. All of this social interaction is exhausting.”

Thomas gave him a thumbs up. “My baggage, for now, feels pretty well-sorted and organized. Head off to bed, buddy.”

Hearing “buddy” made Virgil brighten a tad before he gave his signature two-finger salute and sunk out.

Alone with Deceit, Thomas cleared his throat. “Soooo…how are you feeling after all of that?”

“Like I could sleep for a thousand years,” Deceit grumbled. “Feelings are so very draining.”

“I feel that,” Thomas joked.

“But in all honesty, Thomas. I’m sorry for attacking you the way that I did.” Deceit glanced down at his gloved hands, pained. “Unleashing all of those inner thoughts on you…it was incredibly reckless and dangerous. I will never do that, nor will I ever put you in harm’s way, ever again. I swear it.”

“Thank you,” Thomas said, surprised by how sincere Deceit seemed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m still not happy about that, but…I agree with Virgil. Let’s work to move on and get along. No more inner conflict.”

“Agreed. Though, full disclosure,” Deceit warned, “I will continue to enunciate the importance of lying and fulfilling your selfish desires. It’s my purpose. Even if that means fighting with your Light Sides during your decision-making pow-wows. I’m there to advocate for you, and only you. This little adventure of yours in your mind won’t change that.”

Thomas nodded, a tired smile crossing his face. “I know. But as long as you’re willing to be a team player, then you’re more than welcome to join our…what did you call them?” he asked, laughing. “Pow-wows?”

Humor cracked through Deceit’s stern façade. “Is that not what they are? You all standing around and chattering on about what have you. Guys, should I have Fruity Pebbles or Cocoa Pebbles this morning for breakfast?” Deceit asked, doing a perfect impersonation of Thomas. “Oh, I’m so dismayed by this choice. I’m going to focus on it for forty minutes! Quick, Logan, whip out some psychology knowledge so that I can make a decision!”

Thomas scowled. “You still want a seat at the table or what?”

Deceit threw his head back and cackled. “Of course, of course. It would be the honor of my life to help you choose between cereals. Beckon to me when you need help picking where to go for dinner tonight, if need be!”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Thomas quipped. “And for your information, I would pick—”

“Cocoa Pebbles, I know,” Deceit cut in, smiling. “That sweet tooth of yours is insatiable. See how helpful I can be?”

“Sure. I’ll definitely keep your breakfast expertise in mind when I wake up an indecisive mess tomorrow morning.”

The laugh that emerged from Deceit’s mouth was, to Thomas’s shock, genuine and not pretentious in the slightest. “Please do,” he said, all humor gone as he met Thomas’s eyes. “Please. If you need anything, know you can come to me.”

“I know. I like, actually know,” Thomas responded. “You’ve got my best interests in mind. Even if you do act like a Scooby Doo villain.”

“_Especially_ if I act like a Scooby Doo villain,” Deceit corrected.

Thomas chuckled, giving a little wave. “Goodnight, Deceit.”

Thomas turned to address the camera (which he remembered with a start had been recording the whole time), but was stopped by Deceit’s firm, tranquil response of, “Ethan.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name. It’s Ethan.”

“Oh. OH! Wait, seriously?” Thomas gaped. “I get to know your name?”

“I think we’ve reached some sort of understanding,” Deceit said coolly. “I can sense it, you’re much more accepting of my contributions now. Hence, per your own self-made rules, you’re ready for my name.”

“Oh, um…well, that’s great! Ethan.” Thomas did a little dance, despite himself. “I know your name! _They_ know your name!” He gestured to the camera. “This is _awesome_!”

“Yes…awesome,” Deceit said. He leveled his gaze and gave Thomas one, last, true-blue smile. “Goodnight, Thomas.” And with a swish of his cloak, Deceit (_Ethan!_) was gone.

Thomas sighed, alone at last. He collapsed onto his couch, eying his camera. He knew he still had to record a closing monologue for the video, but he was so exhausted he could barely stand anymore. Sitting up, he reached for his cell phone, resolute in his decision, but his heart thundering against his ribs, nonetheless. He dialed the number from his contact list, the phone to his ear as he waited.

_This is for the best._ A blanket of solace settled over him, like a comforting hand on his shoulder, urging him on and supporting him. _This is best for ME. _

“Hey, Mary Lee? It’s Thomas, how are you? Um, do you have a second to talk? There’s something I have to tell you.” 


	10. All of Your Good Is Mine

**Chapter 10: All of Your Good Is Mine**

In the dim light of his bedroom, Thomas lay in bed, computer in his lap. A steaming cup of hot chocolate sat atop his bedside table to his right, three pillows piled up behind his back to provide lumbar support as he typed and clicked away. He was making last minute edits to his newest Sanders Sides video, tweeting his progress as he worked. 

_New Sanders Sides should be up by tonight!!! Sorry in advance if it randomly drops at 2am…but trust me guys…you won’t want to miss this one. It’s a new favorite of mine._

Adding a purple heart, a yellow heart, and a green heart at the end of the update, Thomas sent out his tweet before returning to his laptop. Absentmindedly, he reached for his Steven Universe mug, only to jump upon hearing a gruff voice remark, “It’s still too hot, you’re gonna burn yourself.”

Clutching his pounding heart, Thomas took in the sight of Virgil standing at the end of his bed. The anxious side, as usual, had his hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, his hair obscuring his vision as he watched Thomas carefully. But Virgil also appeared to have relaxed a bit since the last Thomas saw him, his eyeshadow not _as_ dark under his shining eyes.

“For the love of Crofters, can’t you warn a guy next time?” Thomas complained, hand dropping from his chest.

“Nope,” Virgil replied, popping the “p.” “Not how anxiety works, kid.”

“Of course, of course.” Thomas paused. “It’s good to see you. How are you, um, feeling?”

“Better. The same. Eurgh, I don’t know, not that it matters. What matters, and why I’m here, is to find out how _you’re_ feeling.” Virgil sat on the edge of the bed. “I heard Mary Lee and Lee took the news alright?”

“Yeah, actually.” Thomas knocked his knuckles on his laptop pad gingerly, remembering his phone conversation yesterday with the brides of the infamous wedding. “I mean, they were disappointed that I wasn’t coming, for sure, but they were enthusiastic about the callback. They’re gonna send me pictures of the ceremony when they can.” 

“That’s…great,” Virgil told him, sounding pleasantly surprised. “And you called the casting director back about the callback?”

“Yeah, he said I can still go. He’s gonna email me the details tomorrow morning.”

“Well, then I guess this worked out really well, huh?” 

“Yeah, I guess it did.”

There was a moment of wistful silence.

“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time. 

Thomas laughed at Virgil’s wide-eyed expression. “Jinx, you owe me a soda.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but conjuring stuff is kind of Princey’s thing,” Virgil quipped. “Why are _you_ sorry?”

“I…I feel like this whole mess is all my fault. I shouldn’t have gone to Deceit to dig up dirt you wanted to stay buried. It wasn’t right. I went behind your back.”

“You’re right about that,” Virgil replied, blunt as ever as he rolled his eyes. “But while I wish you’d respected my wishes, I can’t blame you for the curiosity. It was obvious I was hiding some stuff from you, and I shouldn’t have assumed you wouldn’t be able to handle it. I guess I should have trusted you more.” He cast his gaze downward. “And I shouldn’t have ignored your summoning. That was really dangerous and stupid of me. I was just really embarrassed. I thought…I thought you wouldn’t want to see me ever again.”

“Virge…” Thomas shut his laptop, guilt pooling in him like leaking water. “I would never _not_ want to see you. I mean, sure, the random bursts of anxiety aren’t ever super fun, but we’ve talked about this before. I need you.” 

“I know, but…” Virgil rubbed his upper arms, as if trying to warm himself up. “The way you reacted to me telling you about…my past…I thought that was all the proof I needed that you were scared of me again. And that’s what I had been trying to avoid since I became an official member of the group. I thought the jig was up.”

“Oh, Virgil.” Thomas gave a tiny laugh. “Jumping to conclusions again, huh?”

“Can’t help it,” Virgil muttered, slouching over into himself, as if trying to shrink out of sight. “I thought you hated me.”

“Virge, look.” Thomas leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Yeah, I was mad to be learning so much new information all at once. I was overwhelmed and exhausted, and too curious for my own good. And sure, I’m not really happy about the ‘spy’ stuff you were pulling in the beginning of knowing you. But listen to me: I could _never_ hate you. You are a part of me, and a crucial one at that. After thinking about everything Deceit told me, I don’t blame you for any of this. You went through…some things. But you’ve emerged from them a brand new side. One that makes me better, and will _always_ make me better.”

“But…I _lied_ to you, in the beginning,” Virgil argued, running his hands through his hair with agitation. “I initially only started showing up because Deceit wanted to control you, and I was there on his behalf. I wasn’t trying to help you, not really. But as we did more videos…and as I interacted with the Light Sides more…the more I saw how _good_ you are, and how great it felt to offer my opinion and legitimately work as a team. It felt so amazing to help you and talk to you. But you were just too _good_ for us, and I started to cherish that goodness. I worried that us—the others—meddling was just snuffing out all of that light that had been keeping me warm, and it worried me.”

“But the others didn’t see it that way,” Thomas guessed.

“No.” Virgil brought his legs up onto the bed and wrapped his arms around his knees, curling inward. “They thought I was putting you at risk by believing in the Light Sides so much. But I couldn’t help it. All the talk of being a good person…it stuck with me. It became important to me that you were good, because I knew it was important to you.” He forced air out of his mouth through clenched teeth. “And then Deceit kicked me out.”

“That must have been so hard,” Thomas said, quiet as he pulled the edge of his comforter closer. 

“It was. But, I don’t know…eventually, it just felt like I’d found where I was supposed to be the whole time. With you guys.” Virgil groaned, rubbing his eyes. “God, that’s so sappy. I’ve been hanging out with Patton too much.”

Chewing back a tiny smirk, Thomas asked, “So, considering all of that, is it a real surprise to you that I’ve thought you hated me throughout this ordeal?”

Virgil’s head shot up. “You thought _I_ hated _you_?”

“Um, _yeah_. I just thought…with you not showing up anymore…and Remus and Deceit’s presence in the past few videos kind of my own fault…and the fact that I haven’t seemed exactly like my typical boy scout self recently…and now with everything that went down today on the Dark Side…ugh, I don’t know.” Thomas picked at a hang nail, melancholy coloring his expression. “I’ve felt like a real bad guy lately.”

“Thomas! No. Please, listen to me.” The alarm in Virgil’s voice made Thomas glimpse up and meet his gaze. “You’re _not_ bad. You’re the farthest thing from it. Don’t let the things you’ve discovered about me scare you. I know Deceit can be convincing, but…whatever he said to you in his room isn’t true.”

“Well, he was right about one thing. I _really_ didn’t want to go to that wedding.”

“Okay, sure, he’s got his moments when he’s right. But this could only be a one-time thing. Next time he shows, he may want you to do something worse.” Virgil folded his arms across his chest, frowning. “I still don’t trust him.”

Thomas nodded with a sad smile. “Because fully trusting him would mean that I’m bad. Right?” Virgil spluttered, trying to come up with a rebuttal, but Thomas went on, “Because that’s what I’m so afraid of, and you of all people know that. I’m afraid that listening to Deceit will make me bad. _You’re_ afraid that listening to Deceit will make me bad. But I just don’t think that’s true anymore. There _is_ bad in me. And that’s okay. Because you all encompass the good in me, too.”

Virgil pondered, seemingly shell-shocked by the change he’d seen in Thomas. And Thomas could only imagine what was going through Virgil’s mind: he knew one of Thomas’s biggest fears was being a bad person, and now Thomas was okay with openly admitting he wasn’t a perfect angel. Prioritizing doing things for himself had always been put on the backburner, and now it was front and center. 

“Besides, Deceit and I must be on semi-okay terms,” Thomas mused. “He told me his name.”

“He _did_?” Virgil demanded.

“Yeah! I was shocked, too. But Virge, while I don’t agree with a lot of what he’s said and done, I think his opinion is worth listening to when it comes to these major life decisions. He’s looking out for me, first and foremost. That’s a big deal.”

“And when he tries to press his luck and make you too selfish?”

“Well, that’s where the rest of you come in. Balance, right?” 

Virgil winced, fidgeting with a loose stitch on his hoodie. “And when you meet the rest of them?” he questioned quietly. “Will it still be so easy to chalk all this craziness up to finding balance?”

_The rest of them._ Lord, he’d completely forgotten that there were _more_ Dark Sides he didn’t know about yet—because Deceit held the cards when it came to him _knowing_ and _not knowing_ anything about himself. But Thomas recalled the way Deceit held his head high, taking pride in his work as he guided Thomas through the Dark Side and explained everything to him. He thought of all the pictures of Thomas in Deceit’s room, the care Deceit had taken in keeping the symbols of Thomas’s happiness safe during the igniting conflict when Virgil had arrived in his room. Every move he made was a calculated choice for the sole purpose of benefiting Thomas. And because of that, Thomas weirdly trusted his judgment. If he thought Thomas wasn’t ready to meet the others, then he wasn’t ready. He probably hadn’t been ready to know anything he’d learned that day.

“I think finding balance is _supposed_ to be craziness,” Thomas reflected. “Well, maybe not as crazy as it’s been for me, but…you know me. I always overcomplicate things somehow.”

Virgil chuckled. “Don’t I know that.” He locked eyes with Thomas, unsure. “So…we’re okay?”

“We’re okay. What would I do without you, after all?”

“Probably jump out of a moving car.”

“Oof, good point. Yeah, please don’t ever leave again.”

Virgil gave a faint laugh, smiling at Thomas. He’d lost some of his usual edge, the way he held himself now comfortable and serene. The wall of tension that had been keeping them apart crumbled, and things felt more normal again. Thomas suspected it would take a while for life to be some sort of typical again, but he had time to adjust to this new normal. 

A yawn snuck its way out of Thomas’s mouth. He’d been editing all day, and it was beginning to take its toll. Virgil noticed, rising from the end of Thomas’s bed. “You’re beat, I can tell.”

“I just really want to finish this new Sanders Sides episode. I think people are really going to connect with it.”

“Welp, that’s Roman and Remus talking. Logan’s not gonna be happy you’re staying up past the bedtime he scheduled for you,” Virgil reminded him.

Thomas shrugged. “I’ll repay him tomorrow and watch some Discovery Channel to make him happy. He’ll be so distracted by all the science, he’ll completely forget that I stayed up late.”

“They better be extra nerdy for him to forget this.”

“Eh, maybe I’ll pick up a Sherlock Holmes novel, too, just to be sure.”

Virgil snorted. “That’ll do it. Um, and Thomas?”

“Yeah?”

“I know…I guess it may not really mean anything at this point, since we’re over all the labels, but I just wanted to say…” Virgil was looking at him with so much sincerity and fondness that it almost made Thomas misty-eyed. He’d seen more emotion from Virgil in the past twenty-four hours than he had in the past few years of knowing him. Virgil cleared his throat, like he was trying to stop himself from blubbering. “No matter what you choose, for anything, ever, you’re a really good person. I know you’re constantly afraid that you’re not, but you’re good. You’re just…really good.”

Thomas grinned, shooting him a one-handed finger gun. “Which makes you good, too, buddy.”

Virgil blinked, then nodded briskly. He was glowing like sunshine from the compliment. He reached back to scratch the back of his neck, self-conscious. “And thank you. You know, for accepting me and everything.”

“Well, thank you for coming to my defense back there with Dec—er, _Ethan_. And for telling me the truth.”

"Just doin' my job, kid. Don't mention it."

"Well, you're doing awesome. Thank you for everything. We on for watching some conspiracy theory YouTube videos tomorrow night?"

"Only if you're not too much of a chicken."

"_I'm_ a chicken? You're literally the part of me that _makes_ me a chicken."

Virgil shrugged. "You got me there. But YouTube videos sound great," he added genuinely. "The spookier and more ridiculous, the better."

"Then...I'll see you tomorrow?" Thomas said, smiling.

"Tomorrow," Virgil repeated, nodding. He said it like a personal promise to Thomas. He smiled back, happy, and murmured, "'Night, Thomas," before giving his normal two-finger salute and sinking out for the night.

Thomas sighed, feeling the best he had all week. He put the finishing touches on the video before leaning back into his pillows, proud of this new project. After spending some more time to design a thumbnail, he scanned the title of the video one more time, just to be certain it was worded well.

Somewhere, a sword and a shield were fist-pumping, creatively fulfilled and eager to post the video for viewers to watch and enjoy. 

Somewhere, a brain was exasperated, knowing Thomas’s sleep schedule was going to have to be rearranged because of how late he’d stayed up tonight to work.

Somewhere, a heart was proud of Thomas for being brave in the face of his dark side, and content that Thomas was no longer conflicted about his own morality. 

Somewhere, a snake smirked knowingly and tipped his hat in acknowledgment.

And somewhere, a storm cloud was basking in Thomas’s light, finally, _finally_ feeling like he was good.

Thomas was good.

Everything was good. 

Thomas nodded at the video title, deeming it perfect, and started uploading it to YouTube. As he got ready for bed, he couldn’t help but sigh, giving himself a big hug. His gaze fell onto the file name of his new video on his computer screen, and he smiled softly, at peace. 

_“Grappling with Being Good (While Still Being Good to Yourself)" | Sanders Sides” by Thomas Sanders_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I just wanted to take a quick moment to thank each and every one of you who has read, commented, bookmarked, subscribed, and/or left kudos on this story over the past two weeks. This was SUCH a fun story to write, and I've had such a blast reading everyone's reactions to each chapter. I appreciate all the long, analyzing, and passionate comments SO much and they've made my day ever since posting chapter 1! Thank you so much for reaching the end with me, and I so hope you've all enjoyed this crazy little story. Thank you for joining me on this journey and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it! :)


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